


Poetry of a Killer

by CelticGHardy



Series: The Following Manor Saga [2]
Category: Mystery Case Files (Video Games), The Following
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticGHardy/pseuds/CelticGHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retired Master Detective Ryan Hardy is back at Matthews Manor. After finding out that it was Carroll behind the misery of Winslow University, he is now back at the manor as he promised. Debra Parker, Joey Matthews and Michael Weston still reside somewhere in the building. And he needs to set them free.</p><p>Before Joe comes home.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1528085/chapters/3232691">The Gothic Sea</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The underage refers to the fact that Mike and Joey are underage, and suffering, and later dying.
> 
> Oh, it's not like it's that big of a spoiler. Haven't you played the games?

_ August 6th, 1895 _

Roderick found Joseph hovering over the body of Claire Matthews. He knew something had gone wrong, but seeing what had happened made him worried for his mentor. “Professor Carroll,” he approached, making sure he was far away from the man's reach.

There wasn't a movement for the first few seconds, but eventually he looked up. “I will, I will take care of her,” he insisted, holding the body close. “Bring the brat Michael up here. Let him see what's he's done. I want to talk to him after I get her downstairs.” Roderick nodded and walked off in the direction of the dining room. Joseph picked up Claire's body and got her down to his workshop, where the table he had usually placed victims on now held her body.

He was muttering about arrangements and his plans now when he came back up with a pail of soapy water and a rag. Roderick was holding Michael, who was restrained the way he asked, crying and staring at the blood pool. “What did you do?” he yelled, switching to Joseph when he set down the pail. “What did you do to her?”

He growled and struck out, slapping him across the cheek. “You all were going to leave me.”

“You were poisoning her,” Michael reminded, “You were poisoning her to force to stay. Our father was dying and you didn't allow her home.”

“She was leaving me.”

“She was coming to visit us!” he shouted, “Our father is dead and we never got to say goodbye to him!”

The man was resolute in his anger. “You will clean this up,” he demanded, grabbing him by the back of his neck and forcing him to kneel by the blood. “All of it. Get it out of the rug, make sure it doesn't stain the wood.” He was still crying, folding in on himself to avoid touching his sister's blood. Joseph squeezed until he heard a cry of pain and bound hands came up to try and pull him off. He pulled out the key and undid the newly made handcuffs before bringing the pail over. “Start cleaning. And remember, no running. Your little nephew and Miss Parker are still here, and Roderick will bring you back where I will punish you.” He let him go before standing back.

He was still shaking, but Michael soaked the rag and rung it out before starting on the large pool that had started to coagulate and thicken. It got all over his hands quickly and he tried washing it off in the water before it would just happen again. He kept his head down and heard who he thought was Joseph walking in and out of the room. Michael barely paid attention to the passage of time, only noticing that the water was turning red and it wasn't cleaning as well. When he started not being able to clean up anymore, he stopped and wondered what he should do.

“You're not done yet,” a voice mused. Michael gasped and jumped away from Joseph, who had been bending over him and the carpet. He tried to be careful to avoid the still stained area. “How come you're still not working?”

“The, the water's too dirty,” he informed, “It was leaving remnants behind.” He brought up the rag and saw it was saturated. Joseph thought about showing him where to dump the water and refilling, but he decided to err on the side of caution. “What are you doing?” he asked when Joseph dragged him over to a straight-backed chair.

“This is precautionary,” he stated, taking out the restraints and binding his hands behind his back. He then took the pail. Michael didn't know what he was doing, and began to panic a small bit before the man came back with a fresh pail and the rag rinsed out. He then undid the cuffs. “Finish.” The man continued to wander throughout the house, packing up their items and taking them down. When he made his way back around, Michael had managed to get the wood completely clean. The rug still had a line, but it was better than before and not as red. It would be easier to pass along as a spill of food instead. That and he could have it easily replaced. He just didn't want to do it.

“As well as one can get,” Joseph commented, drawing Michael up. The young man was now in complete shock over his sister's death and what he had forced him to do. It made it easier to maneuver him down to the new area he and the rest of his friends had been creating. The door that entered Miss Parker's area was completely locked, but the boys area was just shut. He walked him a few steps before walking back out and locking the door behind him.

He stood around, barely seeing anything before the other new prisoners found him. “Mike!” Joey ran over with Miss Parker trailing behind him, looking worried. “Miss Parker says that Joseph's a bad man, but that can't be right.”

He didn't say anything. “Michael?” she approached, taking in his appearance. She saw his hands and grew grave. “What happened?”

“He.... he....” he stammered, “He k-killed Claire, he killed Claire. And then h-he forced me to clean up her blood.”

Debra felt out of her comfort zone, seeing the young man close to breaking down. “Joey, why don't you run ahead to the place where I'm staying, okay?” she directed. The young boy nodded and did as she said. At the woman's guidance, the two walked to another section. This was Miss Parker's area, fitted for her needs. There was a general store filled with food and necessaries while there was another that was filled with small gifts for herself and the boys. Her place of living was a 'beauty' salon on the ground floor. She took them upstairs to the bedroom, which was sparsely furnished.

Michael didn't respond to anything until she allowed him into the bathroom to get the rest of the blood off his hands. Joey took residence in a chair in a corner while she went down to the 'store'. Finding the ingredients was quick, and she used the recently discovered small kitchen in the back of the 'salon'. A few minutes later, she was walking up with warm milk. She warned Joey about the mug she gave him before checking on Michael. He seemed to be stuck on just letting hot water flowing over his hands. She turned it off over his shoulder and dried them off, making sure there were no blisters or cuts.

With the young man sitting on the bed next to her, she started to think about what Michael had said. Professor Carroll had killed the woman he loved. The three of them were now prisoners in an underground cavern that had been made for them. She worried and wondered what was going to happen now.

-

Debra had gotten no sleep, watching over the boys after they had finished the warm drink. Joey had little problem in falling asleep on a small set of blankets on the floor, but Michael tossed and turned, waking up with nightmares and checking around before realizing where he was. He would settle down, but Debra heard sniffles before he managed to catch some small amount of sleep. A small breakfast of porridge was what they had before she put a pot on for lunch and dinner. The older one had her sleep, promising to check in while watching Joey.

It was the first time he examined and saw the buildings that had been constructed for them as well, realizing the entire cave, which a good chunk was man-made, was lit with electric lights. There was a 'store' for them as well, one with toys and other items in the window. A school was a few feet away, and he couldn't see inside due to the fact it was unlit. Joey played on a play set constructed for him. Michael found the last item a few yard further in.

The man had constructed a small house. It was similar to one he had visited one of his brothers in. He checked on Joey, who was acting like the child he should be, before walking in. The first room was a sitting room, with a furnace stove and a stack leading out somewhere. There was a table with four chairs, and a small amount of food and dishes sitting on a set of shelves. Moving further back, he found two bedrooms. It was easy to tell Joey's, made up like the one he had in the house. The bedroom meant for him was bare, save his things and a couple of bare furniture pieces.

Dread invaded his thoughts and he walked back out to check on Joey. He stayed back when he saw Joseph. The two were talkative, the older man watching Joey with a sort of joy on his face. _You killed Claire and you think this is okay? What type of monster are you?_ He watched with worry over what the man would do. Increasingly dark thoughts kept building up until they stopped. Joey ran into the 'store' and Joseph looked up to see him. His face instantly turn stern and he motioned him closer.

Michael didn't want to be near the man, but he forced himself to calmly walk over to the spot. “Michael,” he said.

“Sir,” he returned. He felt calling him 'Professor' was now out of the question.

His smile was more of a grimace. “Is Miss Parker feeling well?” he inquired.

“She's tired,” he mentioned. _She stayed up all night making sure you didn't come and kill us as well._

He appraised the answer. “I don't enjoy killing people that I care about,” he told him. Michael almost questioned about him caring about them, wanting to point out his actions did not match. “But, I will commit certain acts to keep you three in line, if you do anything I do not care for.” That did not sound good for Miss Parker and himself. “Consider this your only warning. Obey the rules.”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled.

He clapped him on the shoulder, as if nothing had changed. “Good, now come,” he led, his clap turning into a hold and walking him over to the little store. Joey was having fun going through stuffed animals and shelves with puzzles and mechanical toys. “Only one, today, Joey.” The young one had been caught with two while looking at a third item. He looked down at the two before putting one back and coming back with a toy figure. “Well, I suppose your lunch should be almost ready. Let's see if Miss Parker is up.” Joey was a little ways ahead while Joseph kept his hand on Michael. The young man could barely keep himself from shaking as they walked over into the woman's area.

She had made herself presentable, which was a wise decision. The man visually assessed her before while Joey showed off his new toy to her. Joseph needed to talk with her, so Michael was directed to make sure he and Joey cleaned up before sitting down at a small table while waiting. Debra came back in visibly shaken, but she didn't allow herself to stop, filling three bowls and passing them theirs along with crusty rolls. They ate in silence. Joey was done first and he asked to go play with his new toy. She asked him to stay inside and he went behind the stairs to give them privacy. “Did he warn you as well?” she inquired.

He nodded, “Yes. I don't know what he means by certain actions.”

Debra had a few ideas, and none were positive for them. “We have to be careful if we are to attempt getting out of here.” Mike was wide eyed, the idea of them trying to escape terrifying and a hopeful idea at the same time. “At this moment, the only thing we can do is watch. See what he does, look for weaknesses that we can exploit to escape. Figure out those locks and his schedule.” It was the start of a plan, one that could save their lives.

Or destroy them.

_ Present Day – Matthews Manor _

Winslow University had been a catastrophe.

Ryan had met the Dean of the English Department, a man working on erasing Joseph Carroll from record. He had been told that the man they had hired was a serial killer, murdering many young woman when he had settled in the area. There was apparently also proof of his murdering Claire Matthews and kidnapping Debra Parker, Joey Matthews and Michael Weston after he had killed her. Whatever evidence that proved this, but he hadn't been able to find it. Tenured professors, teaching assistants and others had been murdered while he tried to find it, only seeing the form of Joe Carroll light the building on fire. He had escaped, but whatever it was had burned.

Now, he was going back to the manor, thinking about checking the library and the study for possible evidence. He parked outside to see that the gate had been relocked, no key to the door in sight. “The mysterious stranger strikes again,” he muttered. Ryan checked his phone, fully charged thanks to Tyson. He also had a knife before looking around for the obvious places for a key. There was instead an intercom that he couldn't get to work.

Checking around, he noticed that items were again glowing around a bush on the other side. He picked all that he saw before feeling that a wrench started feeling warm in his hand. “Huh.” He moved over to the intercom and saw nuts that he twisted off to get to a grid with five jacks that had to be plugged in. Figuring out where was easy, someone had scratched the numbers into the bottom. He matched up numbers and jacks, checking before pushing the button again.

Instead of static, a key fell out of a hole at the bottom. He untied it from the string and held onto it. Just before he was going to the gate door, he noticed a series of numbers written below the declaration of love and dedication to Claire. He pulled out a journal, one with a removable inside that he could replace, and wrote them down along side a new entry. Done with everything he thought he could do, he unlocked the gate and pushed its door open.

After a few seconds, the specter of Claire Matthews appeared. The first time he had seen her, she had a nightgown on and a blood red stain, from her murder at the hands of Carroll. Now, she was clothed in a flowing dress, the wound covered or hidden in her new form. “You are back,” she said.

“I said I would be.” Although now he had a second agenda, his first was to still find out about the other three. “Carroll?”

She shook her head. “Not here yet. The house has been slowly decaying. I'm starting to hear them again. Please, you have to get them out.”

“I will,” he proclaimed. She disappeared, and he headed up to the front door. In the short amount of time he had been away, the place had started to crumble. Enough that there was a new condemned notice on the front door. “Oh, now everyone starts paying attention.” There was a smattering of items on the door shining, and he picked them all up, hitting a typewriter key that heated up. “Things I need now heat up. Perfect. I didn't need to collect things before.”

The front door was boarded up, so was the back door. Several of the windows were boarded up, but he found one that hadn't been. If he had been wearing a leather jacket, he would have broken the window with his elbow. Instead, he checked down at the other end of the porch and again searched through items to end up with a brick, which he then used to smash it in. Knocking it all out, he climbed in. First thing he noticed was the crowbar under the chair. Picking it up, he held it while looking at the lock on the only door in what he recognized as the living room. “Someone cleaned up,” he commented. Focusing on the lock again, he saw there were four receptacles for something, and the top one was filled with a dark circle on white and.... “It blinked!” He jumped back when it did said action. Ryan realized that it was meant to look like an eye. Well, that explained the drawings around it.

“Okay, I need to go find three more 'eyes'.” He backed up and outside, where he looked around, trying to find eyes just sitting out in the open. Moving away from the house, he found two statues, and a mess of items at the bottom of the feet of the male one that reminded him of Joseph. He plucked out the items before finding the eye and placing it in a pocket. _At least it's fake._ It took him a while to find the next two, one under a plank, which he used the crowbar on. After he used it, it felt like he didn't need it anymore, so he set it carefully along the house. 

He didn't entirely realize where the last one was until he saw a ladder popped up along a window. Thinking he would need it, he looked up and found a bird's nest nestled just over the stairs. He grabbed the ladder, placed it neatly, and then climbed up to grab the eye. With the last one, he went back in the house and popped them, which made a sick sound, into the receptacles. That didn't open the door. He played with the refining until the middle, drawn eye was in focus. Then the door opened.

“The kitchen's been cleaned well,” he noticed, although it now stank with the food starting to rot without whatever power keeping it fresh. The shining of a cabinet had him going over it until he came across a wedge of cheese. Instead of getting warm, which he thought would melt it, it kept glowing. He kept his hand on it, going back outside where he was sure there was a mouse hole and a cat with a key. He used the cheese to lure the mouse out, switching and then giving the mouse to the cat, where it chased it around the porch. “Sorry,” he muttered to the mouse. “Well, I have a key, but no door with a key hole.”

He decided to go back to the statues, and went just beyond to a door that had a strange skeleton bird on it. He figured it had to be a lock, and had to find a clue on how to pose it. Ryan went back to the kitchen, first finding that he had another search, which netted him a cloth. He investigated the room more, knocking down a paper which showed the skeleton in a different position. He noted it in the journal before hearing something creak outside. Turning to the window, he focused on it before something walked in front of it. Without a clear view, Ryan couldn't tell if it was someone good or bad. A couple of minutes passed without anything else happening outside, and he continued. After finding out that the key unlocked a padlock and chain on the oven, he received a gardener's glove. Getting into the cabinets found him a pair of garden shears. 

After determining he had nothing else waiting for him in there, the went back outside to the locked door by the statues. After searching the area again for a horn, he matched the drawing to the lock, which worked, and he was allowed into a different section of the garden than he was before. Passing by the angel leaving a shadow, he made his way back to a small graveyard of sorts, filled with animals, evidently. Another search through items netted him a pickax, which he had set aside after seeing something shine from overgrown leaves and vines. Solving a connection puzzle revealed one half of a circle, which he figured he needed.

Going back to the house, he thought about what he would need a pickax and the circle for. He walked back into the living room, where there was a nice fire going, and pondered for a few minutes. He gazed around, actually taking in the detail work on the house that he couldn't see before. He finished at the fire. Above the mantle was an incomplete puzzle. In fact, it needed two parts of a circle. Ryan took out the one he had and fit it perfectly. It lit up orange and gold. “The symbols.” He remembered that one had been on the front door, and after jotting down that one, he went to find the second symbol.

Wandering around, he tried to find a hiding space of sorts for the other. Passing by the statue, he realized that the statue of Claire was wearing a half circle necklace that was opposite of the one he had just found and placed. He tried grabbing it and couldn't get it off. He jumped back when the statue started 'talking'. “Only if you bring the flower that symbolizes love and place it in my hand will you get this piece,” she informed, before disappearing and making everything solid again.

“Flower of love?” he pondered. “Somewhere in this mess is a rose.” He snapped his fingers. “And that's why I needed the glove and shears.” He walked back to the porch and tried looking for a rose bush. There were little to no flowers growing anywhere on the grounds, the grass kept company with ivy, varieties of poison oak and others. Thinking he would need to explore the entire area, he spotted a hanging basket above one of his previous searching areas. He went over and clipped it, seeing the blood red of the petals before wrapping it up in the glove.

Depositing it carefully, the half-circle turned from stone to the metal that he could lift off and carry back into the house. He placed it with its partner, then chose the right symbols to stand beside them. Pulling on the levers, the flame disappeared and the bottom dropped out to reveal a set of stairs down into a basement section he had never been before. After checking to make sure he had the things he still needed, Ryan carefully walked down.

Hitting the floor, he had to stop as someone formed in front of him. For the first time, he was meeting one of the other ghosts that inhabited Matthews Manor. “Ryan Hardy,” Debra Parker echoed.

_ September 2nd –3rd, 1895 _

It had been close to a month already.

Joey hadn't seemed too affected, still lost a little in the fact that he couldn't leave. Joseph was as kind to him as ever. Eventually, he started realizing that the man that was so nice to him was responsible for his mother's disappearance from his life, and that he wasn't as nice to his uncle or Miss Parker. They warned him that he had to keep up appearances with Joseph, that they couldn't risk what would happen if Joseph realized that none cared about him.

He enjoyed keeping up the appearance that they were still a family unit. There was a larger area for them to eat when he came down. The two younger ones would figure it out due to multiple pots and they knew to dress up for the occasion. In fact, he left parcels that had new clothing in places where they would find it.

This time, the man had a few paper clippings that he was placing on the door of the general 'store' and a few more as well still in his hand. Michael came around the corner of the tunnel and stopped before he was seen. He wanted to know what was on it, but he saw the man coming toward him and he went back to their area and played with Joey, trying to act as if he hadn't spotted Joseph. Joey waved to him and he nodded back before going over to their 'home' and leaving something that neither could see. He then joined them. “Hello, Joey,” he said.

“Hi, Joseph,” he said, coming down the slide and running over to him.

“Michael,” he toned.

“Sir,” he said, keeping his eyes down and his body curled in on itself.

Whatever he felt against the older boy was pushed back into his mind over what he wanted to announce. “Well, it seems I unexpectedly gained free time for the unforeseeable future,” he informed, “And I have decided to take a more active role in your schooling. Tomorrow, you two will start coming to class. Nine o'clock, not a moment later.” Joey was okay with that. He had hoped to go back to school with his friends, but Joseph wasn't going to allow it. Michael didn't know what to expect from the man. He and Joey were in different grades and he didn't know how the man would plan those out. When he left, the older boy went to find out what the man had started putting up.

_Local police recently cleared Professor Joseph Carroll, part of the literary department at Winslow University, of charges pertaining to the disappearances of Claire Matthews, Joseph Matthews and Michael Weston. The investigation was started after Missus Eliza Luckbrun, the teacher for the older children, claimed that she stopped receiving letters from her friend, who was taken in by the professor after she had fallen ill._

The rest of the article went on, but Michael didn't need to read it. The man had been investigated and found not guilty of the crimes he was committing right at this moment. This was complete ignorance. _How could they not plainly see what was in front of their faces? What could they possibly be missing?_ Someone came up behind him and he flinched when a hand tried to settle on his shoulder. “Michael?” Debra inquired.

“Sorry,” he muttered. Why would Joseph be back down already? She read the article quickly and turned grave at the information.

“Deputy Nelson must have made things disappear,” she noted quietly. _Deputy Nelson? How could I not think about that?_ “Although it looks like he's now a Sheriff.” He read what she had picked up and his apprehension grew as he spotted the tidbit about the man's recent promotion. _What did he do to the previous holder?_ “Was this the only one?”

He shook his head. “No, there was more. He left some in the mailbox in front of ours.”

“Show me.” Michael led her back to their section, and to the small house they were living. She pulled them out, and quickly scanned them before handing one over to him.

_The Weston family mourns the loss of their patriarch, Richard Weston. Widow Gertrude and sons  
Grayson and Thaddeus along with their families attended the funeral of the military veteran along with former  
Service members and colleagues. Sons Neville and Michael, and daughter Claire Matthews, nee Weston weren't present.  
An explanation was given for Neville, who was aboard the USS Van Buren and came back after the funeral. Unknown are   
the whereabouts of Michael, Claire Matthews and grandson Joseph, Joey._

“At least they don't think Claire just show up,” he commented, “They think we're actually missing.”

“If Nelson's the Sheriff, they won't be able to do anything.” The woman also didn't believe that they would find them even if they came in the manor. The man had hidden these rooms well. She read what Joseph had written in the margins. _They will never find you._

“Your family, won't they be worried?” Michael asked.

Her smile was painful and rueful. “No. There isn't anyone left that would care about me.”

“Except us.”

She wrapped an arm around him, the pain for both their situations bubbling up. “Except you and Joey. Come on, I've almost have dinner ready.” Joey stopped playing when Miss Parker waved him over. They didn't discuss the new items that had gone up, and Joey didn't notice the ones that Joseph had delivered.

The next day started early, Michael getting himself up and pushing Joey into waking up and dressed. Instead of heading over to Miss Parker's area, they had a simple breakfast out of the things they had and went over to the schoolhouse. Joseph arrived not five minutes later. “Perfect, you two are on time,” he commended, opening the room and lighting it. There were only two desks, a skeleton that looked to be from a university science classroom and other things that made the room seem to be fitted to teach both of the boys at the same time. Michael saw several of the things and resigned himself to relearning past years and helping Joey.


	2. Chapter Two

_ October 31st, 1895 _

Calendar days were given some notice by the three. It was unclear if it was their thoughts or if the cold that was starting to cloak over the state had reached down into the caves. Joey and Michael wanted to stay over in Debra's side, given that it was better if the three of them shared a room around the stove and with their combined body heat. However, Joseph came down and discovered them missing from their side. He threatened to close off the passage and then they had to start separating when they heard him check.

To them, the last day of October had no specific meaning for them. Michael was not raised on the superstitions and tales about the dead and demonic walking the earth. Joey had no knowledge of the day. Parker wasn't better off herself, her previous life filled with different stories.

Debra was barely awake, using the vanity mirror in her room as a place to build up her perseverance before dealing with the day. It was something that was becoming more common, reminding herself why she needed to get up, take care of the boys, think about the outside. Then, she would head down and start breakfast for the boys before going on about her day. There wasn't a lot to do, not being allowed upstairs and clean house as she had also been hired to do. Sometimes, Joseph would bring down items to be fixed, or things to be copied.

She was still in the middle of her mental encouragement when she saw someone appear in the mirror. It was Claire Matthews, partially translucent with a bright red spot on her chest. There was no doubt that the woman was currently a ghost, but she had to wonder why she was appearing now. Why not earlier, and why not to the boys instead? She answered the second question, albeit unknowingly, “I will go to Joey and Michael next, but you are the one the doesn't have anyone else here.” She came closer and sat on some invisible chair, so she would be eye level.

“I'll be fine,” she said, hesitating a little.

Claire smiled, “You're hiding, because you don't want them to worry. You're trying your best to fill my place as a mother to the two of them. Thank you.” Debra looked up at her. “You shouldn't be worried. You're not dealing with babies and toddlers. They're grown enough to take some care of themselves. Michael more so.” There was pain on her face before it disappeared. “Joseph's disinterested to a degree, and you won't have to worry so deeply about what he may do.”

“That's....” She had to root around for what she was thinking. “I don't know what's going to happen in the future, and I'm terrified.” _For myself, for Joey, for Michael. We can only do this for so long before Joseph gets bored, gets angry. What happens when patience wanes?_

“I don't think you have to be as worried as you are. He won't do something unless majorly provoked.”

“And then what? Do we just stay here? Grow old? Live like this!”

“Take it day by day,” she said. “Learn, predict, enact.” She remembered those words. Debra had met a professor of criminology after leaving her family all those years ago. He talked about predicting the movements of criminals. That brought her much more calm than she thought she would gain, and went to thank Claire before noticing she was gone. She finished gathering herself before going down to start the day.

The next person she visited was Joey. 'School' was done for him, Joseph giving Michael extra due to their age difference. She was content on simply watching him. Joey was just starting to be affected by the confinement of the caves. Joseph didn't attack him, or berate him. He was positively happy having the young child around. He noticed her once, but she wasn't clear. The second time, he fixated on her and came over. “Mom?”

She smiled, tearful in her form. “Hi, Joey.”

“Where have you been?” he questioned. Uncle Mike told them that Joseph had killed her, but that couldn't be possible. She was standing right there.

“I haven't been able to come by,” she said.

“Are you staying?”

“No,” she shook, “I can't.” This was taking a lot of energy to do, and she didn't know how she was accomplishing it at the moment. “I'm only here for today. I'm sorry.”

He was sadden by the news. Then, he brightened, determined to make the most of his mother's time at the moment. “Do you want to see my new toys? Joseph has a shop filled with toys for me and Mike. I got a new one today, he said today was important.”

She followed her son into the small cabin that had been made for the two. She couldn't play with him, but Joey created small plays with the new dolls and other toys that he now owned. His favorite was a new story that Joseph taught, a small bit of Oliver Twist from Dickens. She laughed as he made up parts he couldn't remember to make for a more exciting tale. After a few minutes, Joseph called him back for the rest of the school 'day'. She said her goodbye and he did the same before running outside.

He didn't get to say anything to Mike, Joseph standing right next to him. Instead, he walked back into the classroom where Joseph was going to continue his lessons. He had decided to split their classes so he could keep them within their normal levels.

Michael was a fantastic student, learning faster than he thought possible. No doubt it was due to being trapped and having nothing else to do in the prison that he created. _Perhaps, he plans to become as smart as me and figure out a way to get his small family out._ That was an interesting thought. Joseph felt he had nothing to worry from the young man.

Closing the door, Michael went back to the little cabin, planning on the first part of his assigned work to finish. Debra would be by after Joey's day to take them over for dinner. Joseph didn't join them on weekdays, heading back up to deal with transactions in the world outside. His first plan was the math, a small amount as the man had enough for accounting and basic everyday usage but nothing beyond, like Algebra and Calculus. It was quick, just tedious to write down.

He set the books down when he realized he wasn't the only one in the room. The figure was supposed to be gone. “C-Claire?” he whispered.

Her smile was touched in sorrow. “Hello, Michael.”

“What, what are you doing here?” he asked, “You're dead.”

“I know,” she said. He collapsed on his bed while she tried to come up with an explanation. “I've been watching. First, I checked on Mother and the family, finding out about Father's death before being rudely pulled back here by Joseph.” Michael was confused on how he did that, but she didn't tell what he did and kept going. “Then, I watched you, all of you. I had no strength, no way of talking or communicating with the three of you, until today.”

“Today?”

“The Old Ones called it Samhain, as I have been told. The barriers that keep the dead and the living are thin, and the dead visit quite frequently. Most people have forgotten about it, the tales surrounding it.” She reminded herself of what she needed to say. “I visited Debra first, as I've seen her grow despondent over being held by Joseph in this place.”

“She doesn't say anything,” he mumbled, more for his benefit than hers.

“She will not worry you two, considering how young you are,” she said. “I then talked with Joey. You two are doing so well with him.” She tried reaching out to brush hair out of his face, and met the same problem of just passing through that she did before. He didn't even notice. “I saw what Joseph did. The cleaning, the clippings.”

“He wants to punish me,” he muttered, “For finding out the truth and trying to take you away. Our Father is dead.” _You're dead, he's dead._ He sniffled, emotions piling up.

Claire wished she could hold him, she should have never listened to her mother when he was born. “You need to stay strong. Joseph will not keep going like this. It's not in his nature.” Oh, how she had seen his nature. His and his 'friends'. She was right about Nelson, but she didn't know the others and they scared her as well, including one that would kill boys as young as Michael. “He will give up, move on. Possibly let the three of you go.”

He didn't believe it. Joseph wouldn't, but it did sprout hope that they could get out. If he was lazy, if he was forgetful, if he was careless. “Can you come back? After this day?” he inquired. Michael didn't want her to go. He wanted his sister.

“Maybe,” she said, the only word she could think of that wouldn't cause pain. The day was ending and she would lose the energy that had been carrying her so she could appear and talk to them. “Goodbye for today, Michael.” She dissipated in front of him.

Joey came running in after she was gone. His uncle sat up quickly and wiped away the tears that had been forming. “Miss Debra wants us over for dinner soon. Joseph's also staying.” He nodded, getting up and ready to change into the proper clothing from two meals ago.

_ Present Day _

Ryan unfortunately could tell what had killed the slightly older woman, a large blood stain covering her abdomen and slash marks showing through her dress. “Debra Parker,” he assumed.

She studied him, going over him and somehow approving him. “Joseph may have traveled, but he will be back soon. He's tied here, tied to us and us to him. It's how he stays alive. That connection has to be separated, so that we're not bound to him any more. He'll lose his life and we'll be able to leave,” she explained.

“How does that work?” he questioned. Ryan had found Claire's body, and he hoped he wouldn't have to find their bodies. The thought of finding Michael and Joey's was disturbing and slightly unbearable.

“You'll figure out once you're start searching,” she eluded, “Just, be careful, and be quick.” She disappeared and he was left in the ruins of the basement he knew. There was a new entrance that he didn't remember before that was barely lit, and that's where he went.

He was in the middle of a small chamber, he thought. “Okay, this is new,” he commented. There were three doors. He checked out the closest and found it was missing parts of its mechanism. Its opposite as well. In fact.... “The typewriter key.” He pulled out the couple he had collected and placed them on the levers he thought they did. They were accepted and his pockets were a bit freer.

The last door had no missing parts, and Ryan was able to solve it quickly after starting it up. The path opened, and he found himself in what had to be Debra Parker's wing. The first thing he noticed was a large sign. “He learned his mistake from Claire,” he muttered, seeing the rule about no diaries or journals. Then he remembered the one that he had started, which now contained more as he got to points that he needed to write things down. “Oops.” He wasn't incredibly worried about breaking the rule. The gift 'store' was lit, so he started finding the items there before picking up a long stick to try and trudge along with the pickax and other items.

Actually, exploring the area found the place for the pickax, knocking out some of the wall to expose the letters that Claire and Michael never got. He went through a couple of them, the seals broken. The woman had been getting angrier with each one. There were some things said that he wondered and thought about as he placed them back and started toward the buildings again. He spotted a tunnel that would have led off to somewhere if it hadn't collapsed. “That must have been to another section. If this was for Debra,” he noted, “That must have lead to the area for the boys.” He wondered if the collapse was due to the conditions of the man made cave, but everything else had surprisingly held up well, so he figured it must have been done purposely.

Going back, the nearest building had a lock on it, and while he could have solved it quickly, Ryan decided to go back to the 'store' across from the gift one. Walking inside, there were sparkling items over on a few shelves and he searched before gaining a marble. The other side had a register, which made no sense to him, as he probably couldn't charge Debra or the boys. Where would they get the money? He figured out the puzzle after reading the top, Lucky 13, and switching the numbers so that the rows and columns added up to 13. Its drawer popped out and he got another marble. He found an elevator behind a shelving unit, but without a lever to command it to move, he exited the place.

Heading back to the place he had bypassed, he now went back. The lock was simple, sliding around pieces until they were in the right spot. Once in, he took a look around. The first thing he saw was a small area that was meant for a barber shop or in Debra's case, a beauty one. There was another search, which got him a third marble. He found a small kitchen and eating space. “Living must be upstairs.” He found the stairs, and saw a strange picture of the boys looking up to something. A good chunk of it was missing, and the backing had something scratched into it. “That might....” _The statue I saw outside._ He pictured back to a shovel just outside of the building and figured he would have to dig to get the rest. Now, he was after the lever for the elevator. He continued up. The only room was a bedroom, plainly made for Miss Parker. There were, however, clothes that seemed more for a young male instead. Confused, he saw a glimmer under the bed and laid on his stomach to see the new scene.

There was someone under the bed.

“Fuck!” he shouted, backing up and dropping the cover. There wasn't any noise from the other side, but a head raised up from the other side. Ryan only saw the eyes, but they were afraid of him as much as he was startled by them. Then the rest of the face showed itself. He barely recognized it, but there was a nagging from Claire's journal entries. “Mike Weston?”

The young boy nodded. “You're, you're the guy that got Claire free,” he ventured, voice incredibly small for someone his 'age'. “Are you going to free us as well?”

“Yeah.”

There was a little hope in his eyes. “I hate him. I hate him and I want to be away from him,” he admitted, feeling more at ease at the words flowing out and his voice getting stronger. “He's not back yet. What he did when he was away took a lot of energy from him. He'll be weak. It'll, it'll be the perfect time to stop him.” He turned, as if he heard something, then disappeared.

Ryan carefully came back to the bed and checked. The items were still glimmering underneath. He went through them and found another typewriter piece. Picking himself up, he moved over to the bathroom. The lock was complicated, but he managed to get the door open. Inside was disgusting. No one had cleaned in a while and things were scattered all over. The shower curtain was covering something, and he pulled it aside to have a mannequin jump out at him. After knocking it back, items started shimmering at its feet. That's when he found the lever for the elevator.

Going back down the stairs, he headed over to the elevator. Inserting the lever was tough, but once he got it in, there was no stickiness or anything wrong with its mechanism. He pulled, and the cabin started going down. Standing around, he realized he was sharing the ride with a skeleton named Charles. He had died, and been left to decay in the same place. “Sorry, Charlie,” he punned quietly. The ride stopped, and he walked off. There was a boat, and carefully getting over there was a challenge more than the search for a key among the items. After he got it, he made his way back and got back into the elevator. He pulled the lever again. It went down, stopping at another level, but it didn't allow access and he went back up to the store.

Thinking about where the key went, he picked up the shovel and walked outside to the spot marked with an X over it. Quickly shoveling, it didn't take long to get to a pocket where a piece of canvas was rolled up. The shovel was cast aside and he moved fast to get back to the house and dryness. He went back down to Parker's cave and back to the portrait he saw before. Placing up the parchment, which hadn't gotten wet, the picture was completed. The boys were looking up to a heavenly version of Claire, and the marbles were white with a golden hue.

He had been collecting black ones.

“Somehow, I need to switch the colors,” he noted, going back up. There was nothing under the bed again, and he noticed nails pounded into a drawer of the vanity in the corner. With no hammer, yet, he ignored it for the bathroom. There were more objects over by the mannequin and he picked up a roll of duct tape before turning to the mirror above the sink. Which had a lock at the top. Getting the key out, he retrieved a bottle of rust remover.

Searching around, Ryan didn't find any scenes to search through, and went to the elevator again to go down and check around the boat. There was nothing there, at the moment. Instead, he was subtly yanked toward a door that had a sheet of metal bolted to keep it shut. The bolts were also rusted. “And that's why...” he pondered, fading off. He opened the bottle and rinsed the items liberally before scrapping off the rust. He pulled out the wrench and twisted them off with a little effort, seeing them fall on the boards. The plate came off and the door swung in.

The beginning of the new area was staged as a storage room. Bunches of bats were blocking his way to another area. “Fuck,” he hissed. Dropping down, he pulled out the horn and blew until the bats scattered around and left out of the door and other cracks in the cave. He waited until every single one left before venturing further into the cave.

It was something he should have expected, seeing Debra Parker's skeletal body lying in a coffin. He didn't know about the machine, but something glimmered and he found a small puzzle. Shifting around the small pieces, he managed to solve it and bring up a second level. Repeating it again and finishing the third level caused the machine to shut down. The body decayed quickly and turned to dust before his eyes. 

She then showed up beside the coffin, dressed in a different dress with the knife wounds gone. “Claire's waiting for me. Carroll's starting back. He's still weak, and without us, he'll continue to be weak,” she informed, “Take him out. Destroy him. Find the boys. Do what you did here.”

“And you'll be able to finally be at rest,” he put together.

She nodded, “Thank you.” Then she disappeared. Ryan saw another flash and saw one last marble for the next door. He then made his way back up.

_ November 15th, 1895 _

Joseph would have moods that usually accompanied thinking about Claire. Anger and hurt were the majority of them. Sadness another. Then, there was curiosity, as he tried to keep light and think about their conversations while she was laid up in bed sick from the poison. Joey was a good chunk of them, his childhood. She would briefly mention his father the factory worker, her brothers the military men that carried on the traditions of the family. Her mother was a sore subject, one that he couldn't get much on. There was something in the past that made him wonder what happened to cause such a rift. There weren't many clues what the fights were about. 

Today was a bland day. School was quick, and he was starting to feel the chill of the caves, reminding him he would have to stock up on wood and other items for the winter ahead. He went over to Miss Parker's area with a letter, asking her if she needed anything for the upcoming holiday. Then, teaching went a little nicer than normal. Joey was excited about the topic he was learning. Michael was still studious as ever, making great progress into the books he assigned the previous week.

As he had purposely brought Joey in first, Michael was his for the entire afternoon. Miss Parker had come over to discuss something with Joey over in her area and he locked the door before sitting at his desk. The young man was apprehensive, as he usually was when he was in the room alone with Joseph.

“I have been thinking about Claire,” he started. Michael looked up at the mention of his sister before staring at the desk again. “Head up!” He kept going when Michael's eyes were on him. “I know about your father, and your brothers. But I never got much about your mother. The only thing I could get was that there were fights.” He wasn't getting anything out of the younger man. “Michael, what do you know?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

Not the answer he wanted to hear. “Michael, what was the issue between Claire and your mother?” he demanded.

“I don't know,” he repeated.

“Don't lie to me!” he yelled, “Claire had to have told you something.”

“I don't know about their fights.” 

Joseph walked over and slammed his hands on top of the desk, frightening him and flinching back. He kept down an innate response to strike him before backing away. “Your sister and your mother used to have arguments, fights, likely when you were around. How could you not know what they were about?”

Michael breathed calmly to think of how to put his answer so he wouldn't get hit. “I was young, barely four, when Claire married and moved away to be with her new husband,” he started, “Before that, I was set aside with my brothers and my father while they talked somewhere else. After, when she would come for holidays, they would keep arguments away from everyone else. I never heard the subject that they didn't agree on.”

Well, that was a failure. He never thought about the young man being young enough to avoid the conflict. Joey, yes, he would have been adequately distracted by the uncles while they talked. But he thought Michael would have been curious enough to find out what it was about. _Unless one was directly distracted to make sure he would not find out the topic being talked about. But why would they be arguing about him?_ He did remember some stories, about how her parents were raising Michael and how she didn't like it. Something about the military and the boy not being the type to fit into the lifestyle.

He unlocked the door and opened it, an unspoken direction to leave. Michael took it, walking at first before running over to the cabin. Joseph left the caves with him going over to Miss Parker's area.

-

Michael was puzzling over the questions the man was asking as he headed over to join Parker and Joey for the night's meal. With Joey occupied with his book, Debra pulled him aside where she thought they wouldn't be overheard. “What was it about?” she inquired. Joey told her that they were switched, with him in the afternoon so that Joseph could talk to him about something.

“Claire,” he whispered, “He wanted to know why her and Mother fought.”

She paused. Debra did know what it was about. She, at one point when she was taking care of Claire, overheard fevered mumblings that described the actual relationship between the two. Keeping quiet, she knew the consequences for the child if anyone actually found out about his true parents and his status among his family. There was no knowledge if Claire knew what she was saying. It wasn't repeated, and she thought it better not to ask.

“I don't know why he asked me,” he continued, not paying attention. “They always made sure I was asleep or with Father when they fought. I never overheard it when she came home for Christmas and Easter, even when I tried. Neville and Father became experts in finding out where I was and dragging me away.”

Debra figured that. If they were going to continue with the charade, then he couldn't know the truth. “Does Joseph believe what you told him?”

“I think so,” he said lamely.

She nodded, “All right. Let's not worry about it. He may be distracted with something later on and we won't have to worry about it.” He agreed with her and joined Joey at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything will make sense.
> 
> It already does in my head.
> 
> I just need to write everything down and then you people can understand what I'm trying to do.
> 
> Extra note: The dead operator in the elevator is named Charles. Charles is the original antagonist from the Ravenhearst games, Charles Dalimar. Funny enough, in the game, the elevator operator was named Joe. So, they kinda switched places.


	3. Chapter Three

_ December 15th, 1895 _

Vaguely, Debra knew it was the last month of the year. She also knew about the ideals of Christmas that abounded around, taking care of the helpless, the poor. Remembering the man that died for the sins of everyone to come on earth. She wasn't particularly Christian or Catholic, but she enjoyed the thought of a man that actually did something for everyone instead of his own pleasure. Unlike the man that claimed to be a preacher for the deity.

Michael seemed morose at the thought of not being with his family this year. It was something that Joey saw and tried to cheer him up. It was small jokes and pranks, but it lightened his mood for a minute before he went back to his previous state. Christmas seemed to be one of the holidays where there were no arguments among himself and his brothers, or himself and his parents. Everyone calmed down when they reminded them of the season. He wished, but knew it was unlikely to happen, for the same effect this time.

Joey seemed to be the only one excited. His memories growing up included plenty of presents from his uncles and grandparents along with his mother's as well. He knew that he wouldn't be able to see his family this time, but he was hoping for the same type of experience. Christmas was about family, and presents, and good wishes. Things weren't that well at the moment, but they could always get better.

It was also colder in the caves, and the three had taken to bundling in several layers while going around places. It was during the trip over to Miss Parker's areas that the boys noticed boxes at the school house door and the toy store. Going over to the other area also saw boxes at the other stores. Joey went in first while Michael tried to warm up. “What is Professor Carroll planning?” he asked the older woman, who was berating Joey for not washing his hands well.

“I have no idea,” she admitted, then looked down at his hands. “Go wash up.” He was embarrassed and stripped off an outer layer before going to the sink.

Breakfast was a bit bigger, extra calories needed to keep their bodies warm. Debra had work from above, things that needed to be corrected and cleaned. The boys had to go over for school still. Michael had his classes first, and went back to their cabin to check on the fire before starting on his work. However, once Joey was done with his school day, he was pulled out by Joseph yelling for him to join them.

Joey was investigating one of the boxes while Debra was around another one. There was a bare tree standing up in the middle of their cave. “Come, come,” Joseph waved, “It's time to decorate.” Michael was wary, and saw glass ornaments being pulled out and glanced over. He joined Debra and saw more along with garland and candle holders for the tree candles. The two shared a look before Michael got up with a strand of garland and tucked it between the branches.

The three worked on the caves, pinning things to the buildings after failing at trying to get things to the rock walls. Soon, there was garland and fresh holly from the outside affixed to corners and walls. Candles were placed on windowsills inside the buildings. The areas were less drab than they had been before, but to some, it just highlighted where they were and how they weren't allowed to leave. Joseph was happy, hanging decorations and other items around with Joey's help. Debra was more hesitant in it, never celebrating the holiday and only knowing basics. Michael had a flair, but it was more of a chore than a fun activity. The tree in the boy's section was fully adorn and the candles weren't to be lit until the first day of Christmas. An ornate metal and glass star at the top of the trees caught the gas lights that glowed from the cave walls. Another tree, next to the beauty store and Debra's living area was just as decorated with another star that had minor differences on top.

After hours of dressing up, Joseph smiled at the work that had been put in. “This looks excellent. Oh, how Christmas has become quite a celebration,” he said, “Colors and caroling. I had several people show up on my door, singing some song that has recently been written.” He was gazing among the decorations and trees. “I have guests tonight. Several of my friends. I will be keeping the doors locked, to insure nothing happens to you or them.” Bidding them goodbye, he walked out on the small group.

Debra told them she would have to start something in order to eat within the next hour, and went to her quarters to start cooking. Joey wanted to grab some toys before coming back to play in the living room. Michael followed to also grab his homework. Which he didn't really have to, it was simple to wait until after dinner and go through it as a way to settle for sleep. He wanted something to do now, to get his mind off of the situation. He could pretend that the homework was from a different teacher and that it was going to be normal in the morning. That he would be back at home with Mother shouting that it was time to get up and Father would be...

_No, no he wouldn't be because he's dead and we're stuck here for the rest of our lives...._

He was pulled out of his melancholy by Joey pulling on his sleeve when he was staring at his books. “Take this,” he said, pushing one of his toys in his hands. Michael held it while he filled up his hands and walked out to go back to Debra. Unsure of what to do, he left, his homework staying behind. Following Joey back, they entered the parlor where Debra had started a soup pot and worked on chores. Joey sat a few feet away and he joined him on the floor. “You're Marcus, the general of a division heading down to Tennessee.” He set everything up. “I'm Davis, the general of a division already settled down there. You're coming to give me reinforcements.”

Michael hadn't played many games with his brothers, being younger than all of them. “What are we playing?”

“Something I made up. We're fighting invisible Confederate soldiers before they infade the North.”

The older one was confused. “Infade?”

“I can't remember the name,” he admitted, “It means to sneak in undetected.”

He went through his vocabulary to figure it out. “Infiltrate?”

He nodded, “I think that's it.”

It was different, playing with Joey. Claire, Joey and her husband lived away from the family and when they came around for the holidays, there wasn't much playing as they were silent, the adults talking around them and catching up in their lives. There was also the age disparity between himself and his parents. Claire and two of his brothers were the ones to play with him, and his brothers were much rougher than just playing with toys.

Playing was relaxing and somewhat fun, and Joey was disappointed when they had to stop for dinner. Michael was still holding a toy when Debra nudged him to clean up himself before joining them. The eerie calm, surrounded by decorations of the season reminded them of what they were missing.

_Ryan – Present_

Outside of the boy's door, Ryan counted the marbles and made sure he had the correct amount before placing them in. The last one had the boys eyes' flash, but then everything was quiet. “Okay, how does this one,” he muttered, carefully maneuvering the items attached to see what would produce a reaction. He finally got it when a press switched a section of the marbles. A black one was replaced by a white one on the other side. Pressing it again just moved it and didn't give him another. He found another button on the other side and saw it also switch out a black for a white. Playing with this, he pressed in a random pattern until the black marbles had disappeared entirely and white took their place. The lock disengaged and he was able to pull the door open before walking in.

Debra's side had been taken care of better, as a couple of lights were out and much more damp was spotted. The playground that Carroll had constructed was rusted in places and Ryan was surprised that it hadn't fallen down yet. _But then, this place has been kept up somehow and while it doesn't extend upstairs anymore, it still be at work down here._ That could certainly explain some of it. The toy 'store' was still there, and lit surprisingly. The school just beyond wasn't lit.

“Hi,” a voice said. Ryan looked around until he saw a young boy sitting on the swing set. A split second of wanting to warn him changed when he could see things through the boy's body. _Joey Matthews. He stayed over here. Then, why was Michael over in Debra's side?_ He was pulled out of his thoughts by Joey. “Are you the man?”

“The man?” he asked.

“The man that Mike and Miss Debra were talking about.”

 _So they can talk to each other. Is that what Michael reacted to when he met me? Someone calling to him._ “Yeah, that's me.”

He smiled, “Mom's been able to talk to us. She says that if you destroy what's holding us here, we'll be able to leave and go with her.” He didn't know what to say to that. Ryan didn't have to say anything, but Joey continued. “That would be good. Joseph's still nice, but only on his good days. And it's mostly to me.” The last part was to himself, but Ryan still heard. “I think Joseph's closer,” he warned, then disappeared from the swing.

The older man didn't want to think about that yet, and went over to the swing set due to a new search. He got a funnel of all things out of it. With no idea of what it would be used for, he found a place to store it before walking toward the toy store. The counter, again with a cash register that didn't make sense, was glowing and he found a fuse among the other items. Once that was out of the way, he inspected the area. There was another room that led to the back, and it was his next stop after investigating the stove that was sitting beside the door. Taking note of the strange top, he wondered what it was about before walking back.

Another search got him a hammer, which he thought he could use almost anywhere, but knew it would probably be a one time use item. A set of stairs got him down into a basement. Looking around, he saw a junction box and went over to find it crawling with roaches. “No way of getting in there now.” There was also a stuffed animal hanging up, and closer examination showed the thing to have been restitched several times.

“Not liking that.” The last thing was a game that he saw was still working. Curiosity drove him to start it, whacking the dummies that come up. The first time, he didn't make the high score, and the things laughed at him. The second time was closer, but it was the fourth time that he actually managed to get higher. One popped out with a coin in its mouth, which he took. The others came out after that.

“Coin, coin, what do I do with the coin?” he pondered, going back upstairs. Nothing was glowing and he moved out back to the main area. He was trying to remember if anything took coins before he rewound his memories and 'walked' back into the store over in Parker's side. Going through the place again, he thought he remembered a box by one of the counters. Not for the coin, but possibly something that needed a fuse.

Heading back to the other side, he noticed that the counter was again glowing for him to find things, and Ryan went through before getting another typewriter key. Getting the combination from the cash register, he opened the fuse box and found the school slot was empty. The fuse slid in and lit up. “And that's ready.” Stepping out of the store, his first thought was to go back to the school and search. Instead, he thought he saw someone over by Debra's living quarters. Whoever it was disappeared, but Ryan felt obligated to check it out anyway. The inside was lit up again and he collected another key before going upstairs. There wasn't another search, but a sound drew him to the vanity, where there was a drawer that had been nailed shut. He pulled out a bottle of paint remover. “Yeah, no clue.” The hammer was no longer needed and he laid it on the table with a frown.

Going back to the boys' section, he went into the school, and was greeted by a small classroom with two student desks and one teacher's. There was a skeleton in the corner, decorated with clothes and a hat. Someone had fun in the remains. Ryan doubted it was the boys. The blackboard had a pattern hidden on it but a layer of paint. He was about to work on that when he saw shimmering. Instead, he worked on finding and cleaning up to receive a can of insect spray. “Excellent.” Now done with the search, he went over to the board and worked carefully to remove the dried paint from the chalk that was somehow still there. On the board was a math problem, consisting of three triangles surrounding another. The inner one had large numbers, that he realized were sums of numbers on each side of it. The bottom was missing a number, which subtracting the ones he had got him eight. The missing number was marked with an S. He noted it down and walked out.

The last building that he needed to explore was the boys living area. The door was locked by a puzzle, but there was a hose that wasn't connected. He had to get the tape from the bathroom out and wrap it around the broken areas. Once he did that, it lit up, becoming functional again. Ryan moved pieces to connect the top to the bottom, so a liquid ran down and filled the pieces to unlock. Pushing the door in, he saw a small dining area, kitchenette and living quarters. The table was cluttered with shimmering items and he searched, coming on a pot holder. “Pot holder?” he said, “Pot holder. Like the glove? The glove I needed for the rose, a pot holder I would need for something hot. What's hot at the moment?” The stove flashed in his head. “That's it. Why? Why do I need to mess with the stove?”

He thought about that while heading down to the bedrooms. Both were locked with puzzles, which made him wonder how much time Joseph really had to create these elaborate things. He went left first, and after solving a matching puzzle opened the door into a bedroom with plenty of toys. “Joey's room.” There was a search through a toy chest and he gained another key. After looking through the old toys and other things hanging around, he went over to the other door.

The puzzle to Michael's room was more complex, equations that added up to one large one at the top, similar to the one that was in the school. Opening it, he saw that the room had much less items, older clothes. “Not surprising, Carroll favored Joey a little more. Blamed Michael for the failure of the illusion.” There were no glimmering objects for him to sort through. Instead, he found a telephone number that he noted down.

“Hey, I thought I lost this,” Joey exclaimed over in the other room. Ryan turned in surprised to see the two boys standing behind him. Joey was now in his room, trying to grab a figure out off the bed. His hand kept going through it. Michael was standing at the entrance of his room, watching with a forlorn look.

“Mike?” Ryan tried, getting his attention with the shorter version of his name.

He looked over in surprise. Joey was the only one that ever used the diminutive variant. “Yeah?”

“Why are you appearing right now?” he asked.

“Joey wanted to see his stuff again,” he said, “Once the doors are locked, we have a harder time moving around.”

There wasn't an answer for him. “And you? What are you doing along with protecting him?” He bowed his head, before looking over at his bed. It was as much of an answer that he was going to get, as the two disappeared after hearing something.

Ryan checked the top of the bed and found nothing. Bending down, he managed to see something glimmering and pulled out a length of rope that hadn't decayed in its years. “Okay. At least this is easier to carry than everything else,” he muttered, hanging it on his body.

Stepping out of the little house, he started walking back to the toy store, thinking about the things he now had to use, when something caught his attention just after the school. Looking over, it took a few minutes to find a slight glimmering point, which he saw a door that led down to a basement below the school. On it was a pattern that he had to match. “When the stove is set to 400 degrees,” He mumbled. He now had the reason for the pot holder.

Going into the toy store, his first thought was down to the basement again. Spraying all the roaches, he opened the box and found a maze of off lights and wires connecting them all. First, he just went from one side to the other. It didn't work. Then, he realized that every light had to be lit, and that he couldn't recross after trying that and getting stuck. The third and fourth times didn't pan out, ending up leaving one out each time. It came from the fifth time that everything lit and he closed the box before heading back up. The phone now functional, he checked the phone number again before dialing. Instead of someone picking up on the other side, he heard a click and the door beside the phone opened. 

Going out it, he came across an anchor that used to have rope attached to it, but had become destroyed at one point. He tied his rope on it and dropped it over the side, hearing a thunk at the bottom of whatever it was.

 _“Look up,”_ a voice whispered by his side. Ryan wondered why Michael was telling him that, but looked up to see a pail that had become lodged in the wall. The long stick that he had from Debra's side warmed a little bit and he used it to knock it out so it was handing free. Once done, he felt someone push him back from the edge.

“All right, all right.” He walked back and headed outside, where he had to go back a ways for the well by the initial gate. Bringing up the well gained him a knife, dull one however. Heading up the steps, the trunk area that he had gained the brick now had to be searched again, this time for a machine belt of sorts. 

Going back to the basement, he headed into the boys section and into the toy store. He messed with the stove, changing the heat to 400. After a minute to heat up, certain areas changed, and a pattern emerged. Memorizing it, he went over to the basement door and placed it in, pushing a button that accepted and unlocked. Once opened, he carefully moved down to where a grinder stone and large container of gas were. “Damn.” He placed the belt on and then had it going before sharpening the knife. Down to the basement and cutting through the teddy bear's stomach, he got matches that went in a pocket. Now, he went down the hole.

The door lock was a fast paced match, a strike whenever he missed one. It took a second try to get the lock undone and the door opened. Inside was dark, but he found a lantern and lit it with the matches. Now, he could see. Two coffins were sitting side by side, with tubes and a machine between the two similar to the one on Parker's coffin. The machine was locked by a puzzle that was related to the one on Michael's bedroom door. The first was easy, getting all the wires lit up before a second one came up. This one was a little harder, but after working through the path, unlike what he did with the telephone, he managed to get it the first time. The third was the hardest, and he plotted out two courses that failed before getting the third time on a whim and a mistake.

When that was completed, things shut down and he could see the bodies inside the coffins disintegrate like Parker's body. There was nothing in their coffins and he was grateful because he didn't want to have to go through getting another item like the marble in the last coffin. The boys appeared at the ends, looking much nicer than before. He hadn't purposely noticed their death wounds before, but now they were hidden. “I feel a lot better,” Joey said, jumping around.

Michael was the same, although he was sedate about it. “He's coming home soon, and he's going to be extremely angry,” he muttered. Realizing that he would have to talk about things he would rather not, he turned to Joey. “Go to Miss Parker, now.” He waited until the boy left before looking up at Ryan.

The man inquired, “What is it?”

“The- J- He has helpers. Early on, it was Sheriff Nelson, who he called Roderick. There were also a couple of others that we saw. The originals are dead. He does have someone now. His name is Robert. Please be careful.” Someone started calling him and he disappeared.

Ryan didn't know what exactly to make and just noted it before starting to make his way back up the well.

_ December 25th, 1895 _

Christmas came with no snow that they could see. Joey was up first, excited about the day. He got Michael up by pounding on the bed and then jumping on it before the young man actually woke up. They dressed and headed over to Parker's side. She was already pulling things out for Christmas dinner, but showed them the sweet breakfast that she had made for the three of them and the occasion. They had fun eating the different meal before Joey went back for his toys to play with. Michael didn't have anything to do, the books he had being read twice and he could remember what the plot entailed too well. Instead, he ended up watching and helping Debra, not feeling the spirit of the season.

Noticing his depressed state, she had him doing things around so he wouldn't focus on the situation at hand. After a few hours, she had the two go over to their area to wash and change. The nicest clothes were chosen and they were back to help her set up the meal just in time for Joseph. “Miss Parker, may I have some help setting these down?” he inquired. Michael took up the slack of getting the food prepared and out to the table while Joey 'helpfully' went over to the adults.

They sat down after everything was settled, Joseph at the head of the table with Debra at his left and the boys at his right. With no grace, Michael and Joey mumbled quick ones to themselves before accepting slices of the goose that was prepared for the holiday. After side dishes were also selected and plated, they sat them down and started eating. “Hmm,” the man hummed, savoring the meat. “Delicious. Incredibly moist.”

The group stayed quiet, no one really having any good conversation starters. Not surprising, considering three stayed underground and their only interaction was with each other. There was comments on the food, calling it the best they ever had tasted, that Debra placed a good amount of work into it. They worked through it in good form, barely taking a half-hour before moving on to dessert. After eating until they were full, Joseph walked them over to the tree and the presents.

Joey went first, opening several toys along with a couple of fiction books and clothing. Michael had the clothes and books, including works of Doyle that he hadn't gotten to read. Debra only had a couple of pieces of clothing, along with her own books and a couple of beauty items. There wasn't anything for Joseph, but he insisted that spending time with them was enough for his present. That and they wouldn't be able to buy him what he wanted. They spent a couple of hours watching Joey play with his new toys, watch him rope Michael into stories that were told with figurines and battles. After an enjoyable afternoon, the older man left them to set up his little party for Friends, leaving them by themselves.

Michael stared down at the books while Joey walked his stuff over in groups so he didn't drop anything. “What's wrong?” Debra asked

“I don't,” he stammered, “I don't get it. I don't get him.” This was surprising, and yet sadly enough, it wasn't. Joseph was a contradiction in terms, and it was messing with the head of the older boy. “He keeps us down here, but he makes sure we're fed and taken care of. He'll get angry enough to scare us, but then he'll give us items and he remembered that I liked the Holmes books and....” He shuttered, the only way he could keep down the outflowing of emotions that were pushing up. “It makes no sense. It doesn't make any sense. He killed Claire, he loved Claire and he killed her but he hates me and yet we're down here alive for some reason....” 

Debra intervened, pulling him to the table and sitting him down before he collapsed. There were things that she remembered learning and upset women and children were one of them. “Michael, Michael,” she breathed, trying to apply the same things that were once used on her. It took a few minutes of repeating his name and rubbing his arm and back. After a few minutes, he had calmed enough to take care of some things himself, wiping away tears and getting his breathing back to normal. Once it was, he apologized before going back to his side, leaving the items behind and passing by a confused Joey who was coming back for the rest of his things.

“What's wrong with Uncle Mike?” he asked.

She sighed, “The situation's getting to him. He's confused and scared of what's going on.”

The younger one didn't know exactly what to do with the knowledge. Joey couldn't comprehend the exact distress of the situation. “Why?”

“Because Professor Carroll is acting very nice, but the situation he's created isn't.”

He stared up at her for a couple of seconds before glancing at the ground. “I still don't get it.”

“You won't. Not for a while.”

He couldn't figure out what to say next, and instead figured on something to do. Arranging his uncle's things, he placed his stuff on top and walked. Debra followed carefully, watching to make sure nothing fell. Michael had crawled into bed and pulled the sheet up over him, blocking out the world. Joey quickly put most of his stuff except for one toy before going through the books and picking one out. “Read this one,” he said, sitting up by his uncle. The other one had pulled down the sheet when he jumped up. The woman pulled over the only chair and sitting before starting at the prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been better timed for December.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Tragedy, the captives try to escape. Ryan in the present finds an occupied cabin next to the Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Character Death and assault of a minor later on.

_February 5th to the 20th, 1896_

The last month had fallen back into the tense atmosphere that the four had lived in before. Something was going on outside of the mansion and Joseph was switching between frustrated and angry. None of them actively pissed him off, but he usually ended up yelling at them for small mistakes that happened. The caves were horribly cold and they were wearing more layers than usual to compensate. Debra had several covers in her room to keep herself warm during the night, and the boys would sometimes share one of the beds due to the chill.

Joey had his lesson after Michael's. The young man went over for lunch when Joey came from it. He had his work complete and planned on going back over to watch for him after his lessons were done. The swing set was swaying slightly ominously and he wondered what had caused it when Joseph slammed open the door. “Michael! Come here, quickly,” he ordered, spotting him where he usually stood. He moved, wondering why the man called him. Instead, Joey laid on the ground inside.

“Joey?” he breathed, kneeling down next to him, frightened.

“He complained about his right side hurting and feeling ill, before divulging his breakfast to the floor,” Joseph explained, “You're going to help in carrying him outside to a room.” There would be further threats and words, but he didn't have time, knowing he would have to rush out and find a friend for the need.

Michael worried about his nephew that he didn't fully work through what was happening around him while he was following Joseph outside and up to the younger boys old bedroom. He set him down and accepted things from the older man before making Joey comfortable. He only noticed when he was done that they were locked in. There were stray thoughts about going out the window for help, letting everyone know what he had done to the four people that were declared missing. They faltered and fizzled out when he remembered Debra was still downstairs. He couldn't get her out, and if he left, Joey and Debra would be at his mercy.

“Ow,” Joey mumbled, clutching his stomach and interrupting his thoughts.

The older boy was immediately at his side, holding the bucket that the man said should be used if he started emitting his stomach again. There was nothing this time, but he stayed by the bed and rubbed his back. It was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

It was a couple of hours before Joseph came back with two other people. One was the doctor that had checked in on Claire. The other was someone he didn't recognize. Joseph dragged him out while the man started talking about surgery. “What's going on?” Michael questioned, desperate for answers, “What's wrong with Joey?” The man wasn't answering him, pushing him in what he recognized as the library. “What is wrong with him?”

The man roared, “Sit. Down!” He continued glaring until the young man sat down on a book stack. Joseph really had to clean around the house again. It was a shame that Debra couldn't do so. He was distracted by his hobbies to remember the basic housekeeping. “The pain on the right side is indicative of appendicitis, inflammation of the vestal organ. It needs removal before it bursts and causes sepsis.”

That was as terrible as it sounded. Michael knew about the risks associated with surgeries. His brothers had bullets removed in the middle of combat and his father had been stabbed during his service. He had heard of a few family friends dying from post surgery complications. He shuddered and buried his head, the increasing dread getting to him. 

After a few hours of pacing and no word, the second person came down and motioned for Joseph. Locked in, he had to wait for the professor to come back and announce how bad it was. It was a few minutes later when the man came back. His face was blank as he escorted Michael down to the room. The doctor was cleaning up, Joey was sleeping. He was so pale, but his chest was moving. “I'll bring you up to visit tomorrow,” he muttered, dragging the young man back down to the basement and their prison. He left him and went over to Miss Parker's side to inform her of the situation.

She came over after he went back up. Without words, she gathered items to take over for the night before leading him to her area. There, the woman settled him on the chaise before going to start a broth pot alongside dinner for the both of them. It was quiet, the only words spoken for help and directions. She had a series of chores that needed to be completed for Joseph, and finished them while Michael stared at his homework. Nighttime came and she went through her rituals before settling in her bed. Just about asleep, her door open and she saw a short figure sneak in before curling up over the rug.

Joey wasn't awake for a couple of days. Joseph let them up for an hour each before locking them back downstairs. When he did wake up, he was in pain. Joseph had to bring the doctor back to find out what was happening. Neither could get details about what was going on. The man even stopped with the school lessons temporarily, staying up with Joey through the trials. Michael slept over on Miss Parker's side for the time being, not even gaining the man's ire.

Something was dreadfully wrong when the man escorted Miss Parker up on the 14th, saying that Michael would be lead up next. The anticipation killed him and he paced until they both came back down. She was dabbing her eyes and moved quickly to the security of her home. He was forced up and to the bedroom that Joey was. At first, Michael thought he was sleeping. Then, he realized there wasn't any movement, he was too pale. “No,” he softly cried.

“There was infection. He tried scrubbing it out the best way he could, but it wouldn't, it didn't work,” he said. The young man teared up and collapsed on the floor. _Joey's gone. He died, oh God._ His father, his sister, his nephew, they were all dead and he couldn't think, couldn't process it well or at all. The man clapped his shoulder, squeezing twice before guiding him up and taking him back downstairs. He walked him to the cabin and sat him in the correct bedroom before leaving. 

The next couple of days were quiet. Michael didn't want to eat and Debra barely forged ahead in her work. Joseph wasn't even visiting, the doors to their prisons locked and never opened. Eventually, on the fifteenth day after the appendicitis showed itself, the woman walked over with a pot of stew. The cabin was barely warm, and she stoked the fire in the stove before placing the pot on and moving back. The young man was staring off into space, curled under the covers. “Michael,” she whispered. 

He sounded in confusion before looking at her. “Miss Parker? What are you doing over here?”

She sat down on the bed, closing and locking the door behind her. “I have a daring idea. I think we should try escaping.”

Michael shot up in surprise. They hadn't thought about it at all, not with the threats Professor Carroll made regularly. “Do you really think we should? Do you think we can?” he asked.

It was something she had been thinking of frequently since Joey's death. Getting out of the caves, planning routes through the house so that they could avoid Joseph. “The doors keeping us here are the worst part. I think I know how to open them from our side,” she said, “Once that's out of the way, we need to sneak up and get through the house. Joseph's constantly occupied. We should hope that he is when we attempt this.”

He was terrified by the idea. All the threats they had ever received came up in succession, warning him of what could happen if they were caught by anyone before reaching a safe haven. “We can't do that. We will never make it.”

“Michael,” she stated, “We must try something before all of us die here.”

_ Present Day – Ryan _

Ryan cursed the fact that he hadn't gotten himself healthier while climbing back up out of the hole. His heart was pounding too hard and he resolved to get himself checked out after this. _If I had known I would be doing this type of stuff again, I would have kept myself in shape._ Getting to the top, he breathed for a minute before going back through the toy store, stopping to get another key. He had hit Debra's, he hit the boys area. What was else was there to search? Going back out to the doors, he took the last of the keys and placed them on, making the typewriter functional. “Okay, Roderick was probably the name he used for this,” he muttered trying the name. It worked, the door swinging in. Stepping out, he found a miniature train caboose and a search at the top. “You've gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Searching around, he managed to find a few places to step to see the items. Picking out the items, he got a paint scrapper before crawling back down. Now he was stuck. He checked inside, the gas gauge read empty. “Well, there was a gas tank under the school. Complete safety violation, by the way. There's no visible gas tank to fill. I'm missing something.”

Exiting, he decided to see if there was anything around. Trying Debra's side again, he went down and found where the coin went. A telescope had to be positioned to see a buoy, a problem written on the side. He copied it down and found the missing number, a W this time, before moving on. There was nothing else in her area. The boys area had a new search in the living room where he gained a glass jar for the gas he would somehow have to feed the train. Stumped, he headed back out into the rain. The front area didn't show anything. It was by the statue where he found the screwdriver. Heading back down, he let something shine on the carriage to find the gas tank. Inserting the funnel, he went back quickly to get gas and fill up the glass jar before going back and pouring it in. Finished, he pulled it out and covered before entering.

Setting it into motion, he grabbed out to anything to keep himself upright as it ran to the end of the track. After a few minutes, the ride stopped at its destination. Stepping out, he realized that it had taken him to a beach. “Wait, is this where...” he pondered, looking around and seeing the cliff that held the graveyard. “I need to look around better.”

Going over to a boat wreck, he searched it over to find a spare key. “Why would someone keep this down here?” he wondered. Leaving it behind, Ryan walked around until he found a staircase carved into the cliff side. About to climb up, he notice something underneath grime. Not able to rub it off, he used the paint scrapper and worked it off the side. Revealed, it was a pattern that he hadn't encountered yet. “Little coffins that repeat. Down, left, down, left. Second row shifts one space and the third row's the same as the first.”

Mumbling it under his breath, he walked up until the area broke. The puzzle that he needed to solve was at the side of the landing. “Red and black little coffins.” Playing with moving the pieces, he got it to become a checkered pattern, and made it match the stairs. That activated it, then a bridge slid out of the landing and connected to the other side.

Continuing, he came up to a well-tended lawn. A fence surrounded a cabin that was worn and lived in. A part of him wanted to go straight up to the front door, but he saw a little shack to the side and crept over. It was locked as well, this one an electrical conduit that had to go through all the spaces and light up the board. After a few minutes of playing around, he managed to get everything together and turned on the power. It lit up in blue and greens before the door swung open.

It was a little shack with a view of a lighthouse outside the window. He ignored it as another search sparkled. Sorting everything out, he managed to get a ceramic heart, glazed in bright red with filigree on the edges. “What's a beautiful thing like you doing out in here?” he mumbled, turning it over. It was barely warm, almost to the point where it would have been an already used item. Confused, he placed it in his jacket and went back to the front door. Taking out the key out, he opened the door and walked in. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. A chair sitting nearby along with a table that had a tablet and a drink on it. Someone had been here.

Something slammed into the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.

_ March 10th, 1896 _

Michael carried his homework back to the little cabin. His plan was to go into his room and set the books down. Waiting a few minutes, he checked outside and waited for Joseph to leave the area. His patience was rewarded as the man didn't head over to Miss Parker's, instead going out the main door. After he had been gone for ten complete minutes, Michael hurried over to the other area. Miss Parker was going over two large bags, makeshift from materials that Joseph had brought down for dresses and repairs to the boys clothing. She had foods that could travel well wrapped up in a parcel that she would carry, another with a smaller amount for him. They didn't want to separate, but circumstances might force them.

She saw him walk in, but continued on her task. “Do you have your things ready?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Is there anything else we need?”

She thought through the list in her head, folding her clothes around the jars and other items. “Get a couple of duplicate items. Flint, paper and pen. Replacements for the lantern and such.” He shot off and ran to the stores to grab what she stated. Setting those down by his bag, he ran back to the other side` to get his own clothes and items to carry. Joey's door had been locked a few days after his death and Michael hadn't been allowed to take anything to remember him. Instead, he grabbed the last book that Miss Parker had read to the both of them and stuffed it in before going back to her side.

Two more hours of folding and compacting everything into the bags, the two were finally ready to start moving. The bags were tied tightly to them, making their upper halves top heavy. Debra went out first, checking for Joseph before going over to the door. Michael followed. The door held an extravagant lock, like those that that man had been working on and placed on doors he didn't want anyone getting into. They could only see the mechanism. She pulled off a section, exposing was seemed to be a power source. Pulling at a couple of items, it powered down and she watched the latch retract. Pulling, the heavy door began to swing open.

“From here, we have to be absolutely quiet. Keep close to the wall going up the stairs and through the house,” she instructed. He nodded and she walked out first, taking lead. The stairs going up to the first floor were stable, not creaking in any sort of way. They paused to hear of any sounds from Joseph, then continued. The front door was going to be the quickest way to the main road, and to another town that Joseph thankfully wouldn't have any people that would return them.

Unsure of where the man himself was, they had to check each room they passed by to make sure he wasn't there. They discovered the man had gathered more objects during their time underground. It shouldn't have been too surprising, considering he loved spoiling Joey with presents and sometimes gave the other two small gifts if they hadn't been too much of a problem. The mass amount that was up in the main house concerned and terrified them. It seemed as though the man bought something every day simply because it was in front of him.

Focused on their target, they kept creeping toward the door. Once there, they realized it was locked, but the fastener turned silently before it opened. The sun had just fallen, but there was still enough light to navigate by. It's precisely what they needed. After they exited, they quietly closed behind him and still crept down the stairs before starting to run. Neither talked. There would be no joyous occasion until they made it past Havenport and to a safe haven.

The sky turned darker, and the stars weren't providing enough light for their trip. It was enough of a risk that one of them brought out a lamp and lit it, Michael illuminating the road. He walked up beside her and held it out so they wouldn't trip over anything. It was over an hour later when they noticed someone coming up the opposite way. Miss Parker turned off the lamp and then dragged him to the bush. Crouched down so the two of them weren't in sight of anything, they had to wait for the person to pass by.

The two of them didn't do anything, watching as the traveler came closer to their spot. Michael covered his mouth to keep the fearful noises down. Something made the person stop, and they saw that the person was actually several. One was recognizable as Roderick. They realized the others must have been friends of Joseph's as well.

“Miss Parker, Mister Weston,” he shouted, “Mister Carroll's quite upset that you're not at home. Come out now and your punishment's not going to be severe. Keep this up, and he's going to be worse when we bring you back.”

The two of them checked on to each other, fear mirrored in their eyes. Wondering if they could crawl away in the bush, they started checking for clean areas to twist and carefully move through. Michael went first, finding a thin pathway to get away. He pulled on her sleeve to guide her. They were getting farther and farther when one of them stepped on a branch that made the loudest crack in the forest.

“Over there!”

“Grab 'em!”

The two started running, trying to get away from their chasers. They split up for a short amount of time before bumping into each other. It went on for a while, until they came upon a section of cliff. Debra went left, just making sure it was away from the Manor. Michael followed, getting back into the foliage and bush and making a bunch of noise with it. Things became too dense, and Michael was captured first by Roderick and someone else. His mouth was covered so he couldn't warn Miss Parker when she was grabbed and dragged backwards as well. The two were forced back to the road. Their packs were taken from them and then made to walk ahead.

It was too short of a time before they were back. Joseph glowered at the entrance. “Get them downstairs. Roderick, I think you know what to do,” he ordered. Both of them were ushered in and brought back down to the caves. Instead of Miss Parker's area, it was the boys. Michael was bound to the slide ladder, back then exposed by his shirts being ripped open. Debra was shackled and forced into a chair that was held to the swing set poles.

Joseph came down after minutes of waiting. The two hadn't talked, in fear that someone was always listening and watching for someone to slip up. The door was then closed behind him and they were left alone in his wraith. “Why?” he questioned, bringing forth the tools he would be using. “Why did you try to leave me?” They kept silent. Miss Parker was paling but holding up while Michael had his eyes closed. “Claire has already left me. Joey has as well. Why would you leave me?”

“They didn't leave you. Joey died and you murdered Claire,” Debra stated, gaining a slap to the face. It forced Michael to open his eyes to see what was going on.

She became the target of his ire. “I have given you everything down here. You have food, shelter, some of the best clothes this side of Britain,” he said, anger growing in his voice.

“You kept Joey and Michael down here away from their family, their friends,” she reminded, “Richard Weston died without seeing his daughter, his grandchild.” He slapped her again. “You're no better than the man I ran away from. You claim that you care about those around you, but only if they obey your every whim and thought. Everything has to be under your control, even if it's against their will!”

He went to hit her again, but Michael exclaimed, “It was my idea!” The man turned to the teenager, who was frightened, but showing strength. “Escaping was my idea.”

“Michael,” she called out.

“I figured out how to disable the lock,” he lied, “We've been planning this for months. Joey's death spurned us to get out.”

The man was satisfied at the answer. He walked over to him. “I know,” Joseph said, “I should have realized it. You were always so nervous. Was I ever close to finding out?”

“A couple of times.” He nodded and set down his tools before grabbed a long whip out of the pack. Moving back until he was far enough way to do proper damage, Joseph held it up and threw the whip's edge at his back. He screamed, a line developing. The man repeated his action three more times, more lines arising and blood coming out and dripping down. Michael was now trying to keep his painful voice down, not wanting to give him gratification. He was trembling, the agony unlike anything he had experienced.

He wanted to change to one of his favorite weapons, to curve a message of warning. Gathering up the whip, he planned on placing it back when something flew and hit him in the head. “What the bloody hell?” he growled, checking the area and finding it clean. Parker was still restrained and unable to move, so was Michael. Who had thrown that? Peering down, he saw that it was a necklace, one with a heavy pendant. He had given it to Claire during her time here. 

“Where did this come from?” he demanded, looking between the two of them. Both were just as confused as they were. Anger thrumming through his veins, he picked up a knife and prepared to slam it through one of Michael's arms for no results. Something pushed him back before he could deliver the blow. Now he was truly baffled. “Who is there?” There wasn't a response for him. He needed someone to tell him answers. Michael was no use, he didn't know anything about his sister. 

Parker might. Turning his attention on the woman, he played with the knife. “This is Claire, isn't it?” he questioned, not getting any closer. “Claire's been visiting you.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Has she been visiting you?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“More than once?” She nodded. Michael only remembered the visit in October, but Claire had said the woman was feeling terrible. _Maybe she had been going to her to guide her, talk with her._ He let go of her and released the knife into his pack.

Perhaps he could get the information about the rift between Claire and her mother. Parker would have been someone that could have picked up on it. “One more topic. One more topic before I left the two of you for the night,” he stated, going back over to Michael. Feeling petty, he pulled on his hair and grasped the boy's neck. His back was a beautiful canvas of blood and bruises starting to develop. His hands twitched to play with them. “What was the conflict between Claire and her mother?”

“She didn't like the way they were raising Michael,” she skimped, trying not to let the reason behind that out.

“Why was that a problem?” he insisted.

This was told between Claire and herself in confidence, something that she didn't want Michael to know in fear that it would color his opinion on her. He made her decide by hurting the young man, yanking on his hair and tightening the hold on his neck. “Her parents forced her to give him up to them when they discovered she was with him,” she said.

Michael's eyes widen. “She was....” he whispered. 

That was a surprising development for Joseph. Never in his mind could he imagine that the little brat was Claire's child. “Your mother,” he muttered, searching for any signs that he had missed. _Their smiles. There could be something in his eye shape._ He would examine later. Reeling from the information, he removed the shackles from Parker and walked outside with his pack, talking to himself.

“Michael,” she trembled, getting up after throwing the chains on the ground. Moving over to him, she tried to reach out and stopped when he flinched. The ropes they used were too tight, and she had to rush over to their cabin for a small sharp knife. “Okay,” she said to herself, getting back and hacking away. When the last one came off, Michael slid to the ground. She gently coaxed him up and walked him over to the cabin. Settling him down in a chair, she heated up some water on the stove before heading over to her side for supplies.

Their bags were on her front step, certain things missing. Debra also snatched up his and headed over with the medical items she needed. He was still staring off into space when she walked in. The water heated to her preference, she took a cloth and started wiping off the blood and dirt that managed to get on his back. He hissed and moved while she tried to complete it as fast as possible. After, she wrapped his entire chest to cover up his back.

“Why didn't she tell me?” he asked, curling in and sounding younger than his thirteen, no fourteen year old self. His birthday had passed while they were in here. So had hers, but hers wasn't as important.

She moved him over to his room before answering. “Your grandparents didn't want their daughter to bring shame to the family, and after you were born, she wasn't allowed to call on the fact she was the one that carried you,” she remembered, the discussions with Claire coming forth.

He sniffed, lying down. “I don't want to be here anymore,” he stammered, the want to cry growing.

“At the moment, neither do I,” Miss Parker admitted, sitting down next to him and telling herself she would be there the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mother-son idea seems cheap, but it ties in with the video game. Emma was the love of Charles' life. The kidnap victims were Rose, her attendant and her twin girls. The connection is closer than siblings and would fuel the magic that Joseph uses more.


	5. Chapter Five

_ March 20th, 1896 _

Debra was tending to the meal of the day. Joseph had been down twice since the revelation that Michael was Claire's. Both times, he had gathered the two to try and start the 'family' dinners that used to happen when Joey was alive. The new fact had led him to try and court Michael into his favor. He reminded as neutral as he could, the pain from his back a reminder of the man's previous hatred. She worried over the lack of sounds coming from the room and went to check.

Michael hadn't been feeling well since the whipping he received. They cleaned and covered the wounds every day, but it still became red with infection. There was concern, but nothing that they could do. More often than not, he was over in Debra's area, so she could tend to him almost constantly. Now, he was supposed to be reading for an assignment, put forth by her to keep him thinking and occupied. Moving into the room, she saw he had collapsed on the ground, apparently falling forward on the table and then slumping on the ground. 

“Michael!” she exclaimed, bending down and trying to see if he was still alive. A check with her hand mirror showed his breathing lightly on the surface. “Michael, please don't do this to me.” He groaned when she started shaking him a bit and touched his back. “Michael!” He moaned and woke up slowly. When he finally managed to fully regain conscious, he was confused for a few seconds before pushing himself up. Debra had to help him over to her chaise, so he could lie on his stomach without pressure on the wounds. She undid the bandages and saw the infection getting worse. “We need some medicine for your back,” she muttered, going to get the hot water and start scrubbing again to get rid of the pus that was gathering. She had multiple cleaning cloths and a knife to open and scrape as well as she could. It had become an unfortunate routine, but Michael still groaned whenever she went over the steps to try and clean his back.

Once done with the task, she gathered everything up to either try washing it or completely throwing it out. There are several cloths that are now cleaning rags, as she was unable to get stains off. Michael was slowly getting a few bits of color back into his skin, but it never lasted. She helped cover it again before he put a shirt on. “Keep down, no pressure on your back,” she instructed. It was hard to do as there were things that needed to be done and they couldn't stop Joseph from coming down. Neither wanted him to know what the man would do after losing Joey.

He fell asleep while she finished some of her chores. Joseph kept her busy, working repairing objects, clothing. She was also making items to sell through some of his Friends businesses. There was money coming in, and they could request items if they were necessary. That's why they were getting constant cloths and cleaning items.

She had to awake him for dinner, making sure he got enough to eat and give his body energy to fight without making him want to throw everything back up. He then had to go back to his side. Joseph did random patrols to make sure they weren't staying together at night to stop them from trying anything again. It was slow, but he finally made it in time to settle before there was a visit from Joseph. He didn't have to fake exhaustion, the small walk tiring him more than it ever had.

Debra was concerned, and pondered going over to check again. She didn't know if it was going to get better. They needed medicine to cleanse the wounds and kept them that way while it healed. It couldn't while she was scrubbing it open to stop it from killing him. “How much could I risk? Do I tell him?” she murmured to herself.

There was always the last thing she could try. The locks had been reinforced after their escape attempt, but she checked hers out. There was a high possibility that she could get through again. It would be horrible, but if she could get to another town again... She had done it when she was a teenager, she could do it again with a larger reason behind it. Finding the right people to bring back, force her way down.

“What are you still doing up?” a voice demanded.

She jumped and turned to see Joseph standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “Worries,” she said.

He calmed, a fraction, but was still angry. “What are you worried about?”

Debra stressed over the decision, wondering if Michael would befall the same fate as Joey. “The wounds on his back,” she mentioned, foregoing her own fears, “Are infected. I keep cleaning, but it comes back. I can't keep it clean well and I can't get it to heal. Not unless I have access to medicines and he stays off of it for a good while.”

His emotions turned stormy for a few seconds before he remembered why they had been keeping this from them. Joey's death hovered over them, their escape and recapture that also plagued their thoughts. Obviously, they had no idea how he would react if he found out about the latest news. Then, he quieted again, minimally. “I'll bring down a few salves that I have upstairs,” he informed, “We'll work with that and I'll contact the doctor. It'll take a few days for him to get here. If it's not reduced by then, he'll have to check.”

She remembered Joey's death, anxious over what they would say about Michael's future. Joseph had walked out and she grabbed the items needed for cleaning and bandaging before walking over to the other side. The calm, silent cavern always unnerved her and the losses compounded on its gloom. Debra hurried over and checked, knowing that the cabin couldn't be locked, but unsure about chairs stuck underneath the knob. The door swung open, and she headed directly to the bedroom.

At some point, Michael had twisted and turned, putting his back in a worse position. _It's distressing that the pain didn't wake him up._ “Michael,” she shook, trying to wake him up. He only groaned, then twisted to move away. She sighed. “Michael, get up. I need your help getting the shirt off.”

He moaned, barely waking up, “What? It's not time for a change already, is it?”

“No, he's coming down with salves.”

“How,” he started, before figuring out what happened. “He's not....”

“Not entirely. He understood. Hopefully, he won't force you to head to the schoolhouse until that's healed.” She wasn't sure about what could happen if they had to bring a doctor in. More out of exhaustion than anything, Michael quieted down. He was hovering between the two states, so he just gazed up when the door squeaked open. Joseph walked in, seeing the two of them. “Come, Michael, let's get those off.”

Setting up, the older man managed a few glimpses at the wounds. Even being cleaned only a couple of hours ago, they were already starting to show signs of the worst infection symptoms. No matter what, he'll need to call in the doctor. Something stronger was needed. At least they could start making headway on it. Once the shirts and covers were off, he handed a bottle with the cover off to her. “Rub this on the wounds first,” he instructed, “There's a follow up along with something for him to drink.”

Smelling it, she noticed the strong smell of rubbing alcohol before pouring some on a cloth. “This will hurt,” she warned, before starting at the top. Michael gasped before grabbing a pillow in pain. She kept going until the rest of it was taken off. Placing that aside, Joseph came forward with a jar of nasty smelling salve. He started applying it carefully to the wounds, taking care over his touch. Once that was placed on, Debra covered it with a new cloth before helping him in a shirt. It stuck now, so there was no need for something to tie around it. 

The last thing was an equally awful smelling drink. Michael sat up and had to have someone support his hands to hold it. He coughed some of it up, not used to the taste before forcing himself to finish off the rest of it. “Is that all I need to do?” he asked.

“That is all,” Carroll answered. He lied back down, Debra covering him and smoothing out his hair. Once it seemed that he was going to sleep, the man motioned the woman out, planning on talking with her.

_ Present Day – Ryan _

Waking up with a stabbing pain in his skull, Ryan wondered if he had a hangover from going through a vodka bottle again. Instead, he felt the rough weave of rope around his wrists and realized he couldn't see anything. “Oh, right. I got knocked out by someone,” he muttered. Moving around, he had to start touching through things to help him undo the ropes and or possibly work off the blindfold. The ropes he managed first, finding a somewhat sharp piece of metal to cut them on. After getting through the last strand and not cutting his wrist by accident, he tore off the blindfold and looked at where he was.

Moving around, he saw some windows that weren't entirely boarded up. Outside was a few lawn areas that he hadn't explored yet. Another showed the cemetery. A third had the statues. “I'm in... I'm in the attic.” He moved around seeing some of the items that he missed the first time around. “Mike's things,” he muttered, holding a few books that he remembered seeing similar ones downstairs. A sparkle brought him over to a new search, and after going through everything, found a decorative bobby pin.

Gazing around, he found a pad lock. Picking it, he managed to get it open. A convenient coil of rope dropped down and he was able to get to the next floor. The first thing he noticed was a large hole in the floor, stopping him from simply joining the rest of the house. “That figures.” Instead, he decided to go into one of the rooms he could. It turned out to be a little cinema. There was an old projector without a knob or a film ready to be played. The chairs were eaten and worn. He noticed boards over a window, but not enough to block sight. Peering through, he saw the ladder that he had placed to get to an eye piece earlier. “That's a way out.” _Then the other room has the things I need to get out._

Going over, he found the library again. It seemed different than the last time. Cleaner, sorted, and someone had been visiting, if the candle and skull were anything to go by. A sparkle showed him another search, which he gained the film reel for the projector. The smallest of glimmers gained him the knob. Going back, he set up the projector, making sure he did it right otherwise he could destroy what he needed to do. Once in place, he put on the knob and turned it. The film that started playing featured what appeared to be an older man that he almost recognized. He heard whimpering behind him and saw Michael for a quick second before he disappeared. It clicked, although he doesn't know how. “Roderick. Sheriff Nelson,” he noted.

Watching it, he didn't know what he was supposed to pick up until the second run of the film. “That's the library.” He realized it was a section of books that he hadn't explored, the search on a different case. “They weren't in that order when I saw them, though.” He repeated the pattern in his head before going over and finding the shelf. Trying to remember all the places, he rearranged them until something kicked him out. Then, an ax appeared next to the shelf.

Groaning, he lifted it up and lugged it over to the boarded up window. Handling it so he can have the safest grip on it, he swung and hit the boards. Working on it for the next few minutes, things started falling and flying away. The infamous line from the Shining came up in his head, but he didn't repeat it out loud. Finally, he made it through the last of the boards, leaving it open for him to drop the ax and climb through. Next was getting back to the house to go through it. He went back through the basement to the train cart, which had been brought up somehow. Riding back down, he didn't encounter any searches until he got back. 

Without anyone to knock him out this time, Ryan was able to explore. The nearest door had a lock, unsurprisingly. “Inside the home's sort of stupid. Why would the current living caretaker need one here?” he pondered. Instead, he headed up the stairs to find out if the key to it was somewhere. The bedroom was an open loft of sorts, with a bed, chest and empty tripod. “Where is your item?” He ran a hand over it, feeling the larger construction and figuring the item to be a sizable and heavy item.

Ignoring it for a while, he moved around to the other side, where there was a dirty frame that held a document of some sort. Something on the bottom was what he needed, and Ryan remembered the cloth that he had gotten a long while ago. Spitting on it, he rubbed off the grime to reveal a series of symbols in a specific order. Going over it several times, he hung the picture back up and went to the locked room to place the sequence in. He opened the door once he entered it correctly.

It was a study, and there was a search right off on his side. The desk had several things not related to writing, but there were plans for something he had no idea about. Going through the glittering items gained him a skeleton key. Not a key that opened everything, it had an oversized skull on the top and was shaped as a skeleton down to the cuttings. It had to be pocketed for him to work on another shimmer. This was a locked trunk, with a jumbled puzzle on the pad. “What is,” he mumbled, trying to figure out what he was trying to see. Messing around with it, he almost missed that someone had come home. Hiding beside the window, he had to strain to hear what they were saying.

“How well was the terror inflicted?” someone asked.

“Wonderful, but it used much of the energy I had,” another answered. The accent, similar to that of a DS he met over in Cambridge, told him that the second person had to be Joseph Carroll. _He's home._ Ryan had to hurry. With the man himself around, he would be finding out about everything that was going on. The spirits separated from him, Ryan stalking around.

After they passed, he dropped to his knees, poking at the lock until it fell open from his incessant prods. Then, Ryan opened it to find a large telescope. Carrying it up, he set it up, pointing it outside. He had to line it up before peering through. Fiddling to set it right, he managed to focus on a weather vane. There were four numbers circling the last. He figured that adding them up with gain him the E. “North, South, East, West,” he noted.

Finished at the small cabin, he made his way back up to the manor. Ryan didn't know where to go next. He went back through the boy's section, not getting any hints. Standing in the middle of Debra's section after checking it out again, he tried to figure out where to go. Someone yanked to pull him toward the general store again and he walked inside. His legs kept moving over to the elevator. He didn't completely understand it until he saw the wall of it, and saw the box that he hadn't noticed before. It was a decorated coffin, with a keyhole in the middle of it. Pulling out the new key, he slid it in and unlatched it. Inside was a compass, with a moveable needle. He played with it, realizing that the numbers below the letters could only be changed when the needle was on it. Now it was on East, and he changed the numbers until it matched the E number he had figured out before. It chimed, and he changed it to South. Going around, he put in numbers and each answered with a chime. Eventually, he finished them off and it chimed light and happy. When he pulled the lever down, it went to the first level. He then went again and it stopped at the level he had passed by before.

Exiting, he walked out and saw the way front was blocked off by a large door. Going left, there were schematics of something large, along with notes. Several of them mentioned the four, and a large machine. There were also personal items. Pictures of Joseph along with Roderick, others as well, trophies of his murders, as he discovered when he pulled open a drawer. Gaining nothing from the left side, he switched over to the right side.

“Jackpot,” he muttered. Carroll had created a shrine to Claire. A statue stood in the center with offerings at her feet. The only thing that didn't fit was the gold pendant laying on her open palms. Just before he touched it, something shined before and he noticed a letter sitting at the side. Grabbing it first, he read Carroll's words.

_My Dearest Claire,_

_I have done some regrettable things, and I hope that at one day_  
you will forgive the things I have done to keep us together.   
While living we were apart, in death we will be together for eternity. 

_In time, I will bring along Debra, as a companion, and your sons,  
Joey and Michael. They will comfort you and grant me life to work._

_The locks keep you close, but they will wither and fall apart._  
Even their great strength and power is no match for the abuses  
of time. I now cross the space of life and death, using their souls  
as a force to be with you, and maintain the locks. 

_I also have brought together Friends, ones that will preserve  
Matthews Manor as a testament to us, as we live in the walls forever._

_Please accept this locket as my final physical gift.  
Remind yourself of the family that we have brought together._

_Yours Forevermore,  
Joseph._

Ryan read it twice. On the outside, it could be quite romantic. Someone fighting death to keep their chosen one together. But then, one would see the notes about using her sons and Debra as power sources to stay around, locks to keep her and them in the house. Setting it back down, he went over and plucked the locket up. Then the base started glittering and he gained another heart, this one more like another pendant with a black jewel in the middle.

With nothing else to find, he went back out to the hall, and the last locked door. An empty hole was shaped as a heart, and he placed the gold pendant in. It acted as a key, sliding back part of the door to show eight more places where a heart had to go. The ones in his pockets started heating up, and he placed them quickly. They glowed, then settled into their spots. The gold pendant was at the top of an ornate decoration. “Six more,” he nodded, then walked back to the elevator.

_ April 23rd, 1896 _

Michael had not been able to fall right back asleep after his first dose of medicine from Professor Carroll and Miss Parker. Struggling to sit, then stand, he had planned on shuffling over to her area. He didn't like being alone. His sickness had made him delirious, and he hadn't shown it in public, but he could focus on Miss Parker to keep him lucid. If she didn't react to it, neither did he. That and he liked having someone nearby. He was lonely, the lost of his family members having him seek out Miss Parker more and more.

About to stumble forward, he saw Professor Carroll and the woman talking by her front door. He was angry, shouting at her. She was trying to keep a brave front. There were a few more minutes of arguing before Carroll had finally became furious enough to pull out a knife and stabbed her once. He then let out more aggression by continuing his assault, only stopping when she finally collapsed. Michael had to cover his mouth to make sure he wasn't heard. The man struggled to get her to the door of their prison, but did so within a few minutes and then closed it again.

The next days were full of delirium, and he wondered part of the time if he hadn't imagined it. Professor Carroll was the only one taking care of him, a fact he noted faintly. When the infection broke its hold and he started to heal, he kept realizing that she wasn't around at all. _Oh, oh God, it wasn't a dream, nor part of the sickness. He killed her. He actually killed her._ The man hadn't stayed around after he started moving on his own. When he hadn't come back down after a few days, Michael moved over to Miss Parker's area.

Logically, it made sense. Food and necessities had been stored over on her side, as she was the cook for the three. There were also cloths, limited amounts of oil, bathing supplies. The other side of him wanted to hide. A childlike part of him thought if he could stay quiet and live over in Miss Parker's, he wouldn't find him. He wanted to escape, to get away from the man that had done so much damage to his family. The man wasn't coming down to give him school lessons. He checked, going over for a half-hour before going back to start on what hopefully be a successful lunch, not knowing much on how to cook. A few more times and he stopped checking, preferring to stay in the small house-slash-beauty parlor. 

Being the only person in the caves had also driven up his jumpiness. Michael kept hearing, seeing, experiencing things that couldn't have been possible. A dart that looked like Joey running by. Miss Parker berating him for not washing his hands before starting to cook and eating. Someone brushing his hair away when he was close to sleep. Rationally, he should be afraid of these impossible things. They were dead, they shouldn't be around and interacting with him. 

A few days shy of a month after moving over to Miss Parker's side, Michael was sleeping better than he had in the previous weeks. Exhaustion must have been taking its toll on him as he went to sleep early and only woke up when his body became fully rested. He yawned and stretched in the bed before opening his eyes. When he did, the first thing he saw was a black figure standing at the foot of his bed. He screamed and scrambled back, the headboard keeping him from moving back further.

Professor Carroll was not amused by the display, but then it was not helped. “So, you've decided that the side I created for the two of you wasn't good enough for you anymore,” he stated. He didn't say anything, caught up in his fear. “Do you want to taunt me? Wound me? Spit in my face? After what I have done for you. Took care of you when you were sick, fed you. You change where you sleep. You hide from me. I had your side set up for the two of you.” He had been planning on doing something with one of the sides. It was wasteful for the entire area to be for just Michael. He was thinking about closing off the boys side, as the grocery shop was the one needed and he could convert the salon to a schoolroom. But, he was going to do it on his conditions, not on the boy's movements. It was his decision. “Was it not good enough for you?”

Michael had been trying not to cry. His f- grandfather berated him when he had. It was a sign of weakness, and Weston men were destined for the Military. They did not show weakness. They had to be strong, ready to face death as they fought for the country. He hated Carroll. The man had destroyed the family members that had meant the most to him, had killed Miss Parker. He hated him, and he was so afraid of him. There were little tidbits that kept popping up at the most inopportune moments. He was a murderer of multiple people before he had killed his family. There were people that had helped him make this prison, that killed for pleasure as well. He would show up at the worst times and terrify them over tiny details. Completely kind to Joey, but he barely tolerated Michael, and disliked Miss Parker. How, how was he supposed to live with all of that?

“Michael.”

“You killed her,” he mumbled, “You killed Miss Parker. I watched you kill her.” There wasn't as much shock on the man's face as there should have been. “Claire, Miss Parker, Joey. My grandfather's dead. My family doesn't know where I am. I'll never see them again.” He knew he wouldn't. The man would never allow him to see anyone that wasn't approved, that would turn him in. He would never allow him out. “You, you.” Carroll was about to say something, but he stopped him before he could. “You terrify me! I'm afraid of you!” he admitted, embarrassed of the words coming out. They should have stayed inside his mind. Tears started rolling out and he lowered his head to hide the shame. _When are you going to end my life? Or am I now just a project for you?_

When he gazed back up, he was leaving the room. He hiccuped, and someone lightly rubbed his back while a toy that had somehow made its way over moved up and sat by him. “What's going to happen to me?” he inquired, voice cracking.


	6. Chapter Six - This End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan puts an end to Carroll.

_ June 20th, 1896 _

It had been a troubling two months since Joseph had discovered Michael had switched living spaces. The man didn't know how to think. Claire and Joey had been a little family that he had wanted for ages. He had loved Claire unlike anyone before. Beautiful, intelligent, wise and warm just a tad beyond her years. Joey, he had adored, even if he hadn't been his. A smart lad, one that would have had such a bright future. Parker had been a good worker, keeping the place clean. She was also smarter than he expected, able to carry conversations that he would expect of the students of the university.

He thought he had Michael down. Child being forced to grow into a parents, grandparents image. Another military son. Too soft, much too soft. He wasn't going to be an ordinary soldier. Much too intelligent for that. The lessons that he had taught were eagerly soaked up and he was moving faster through things that he had been learning in his sixth form. At certain times, he could see the young man working through the processes. It was interesting to watch. Over time, Michael had become an annoyance that he wanted around. There was something to call it, but it didn't come to him, no matter how much he thought about it. A part of him saw Claire in him, the intelligence, the heart. It was something he was 'attracted' to, not romantically as with her, but something that he craved. Something to care for.

After discovering the change, he started going down to talk with the young man. Things were tense, at least. Michael was isolated, and his only human contact was the man behind it. He offered short answers to most questions, and only went into explanations when needed. He was scared, worried, and sometimes angry.

Joseph thought, after a month of trying to persuade him, talking with him, that he may not come to his will at all. The boy had too much of a moral compass for him to change. No harming living things if he could. No cruelty. A part of him thought it would be acceptable. Maybe years of training could allow him up to the manor again. He didn't have to be cruel to lie to his guests. _Even that may not be possible. And I don't want to take years to get him to a level on where he wouldn't leave._ Keeping him down in the cellar would be cruel, and while he would do it, he doesn't want to. Considering what could happen without sunlight, proper, fresh food, he doesn't want to imagine another event such as Joey's appendicitis or the infection happening again. 

Which was why he came to the daunting conclusion that Michael must also follow his fallen mother and brother as well.

Over a week, he debated over the way to kill the young man. His normal way was too much, as he wanted the victim to feel pain and fear from him. At the same time, he didn't want to completely let Michael get away with his insubordination over the last few months. He came up with a plan that satisfied him and allowed him to give the young man a fitting farewell.

Starting first with making his final meal, he found a few things that he was going to teach the young man before feeding him. It would be a final lesson on what would be happening from now on. Setting them down on the dining room table, he set up his last lecture featuring the materials. It was something he quite enjoyed, teaching people and watching them learn the lessons. It was one of the things he missed about the university. Having Joey and Michael helped a bit to lessen the want, but two students didn't make up for the many he had before.

Night was approaching, the meal almost done, and it was just time. Joseph went down to the caverns and unlocked the main area. Michael had dressed in his best clothing, tugging at the garments that were slightly too short. A part of him tried to make a note to remember the boy was growing, then dismissed itself. He beckoned, and the young man reluctantly came forward.

Once settled with an ankle chain to keep him from running, the older man served a modest meal made of roast, potatoes and collard greens. Once done, he set out a small platter of cookies before getting the illustrations that he would used to demonstrate. “Last lesson,” he began, holding forth an old bible.

“When I was young, my mother began teaching me many of the family practices. Magic, as many call it for lack of better words.” He traced his family line up through his mother and grandparents. “They all learned how to walk with souls that aren't bound to a body. Talk with them. My mother taught me what to do with souls that could be dangerous. It was called binding. You would take an object, or perhaps an entire place if necessary, and perform rituals that would keep the soul within its proximity.”

He brought out a news article, and a portrait of a loving family. “My poor parents, they died when the side of our house crumbled. There was a fire, and it had weakened the structure. I had survived due to being at school.” Michael was surprised that the younger face of Joseph. He never thought of someone so evil to have such an innocent face. The cookie platter had three gone, and he wanted to continue, but he started to feel weak. “My father's brother swooped in to take over the family fortune, and once he started finding out about my mother's practices, sent me off to an insane asylum. There, I met Doctor Strauss. He saw my hidden side, something that my parents tried stamping out. He encouraged my proclivities, teaching me how to hide them and master them. Of course, it was then I realized that my Mother's talents had survived, when a nurse talked about the anniversary of his death from a patient-”

“What did you do to me?” Michael interrupted. He couldn't move, his body starting to slump against the side of the armed chair Joseph had insisted on. “Why am I weak?”

He smiled, “The same poison that I used to weaken Claire, I placed in the cookies.” He tapped the platter, one that he had not touched. Joseph continued. “Also, Doctor Strauss told me that the patient was to be his next victim. The poor woman was lobotomized for her defense.” Joseph straightened the crooked body of his audience. “When your mother came to the town, I limited my indulgence trips. I wanted to be around her. Joey was wonderful. I would have told them about my Mother's practices, showed them. Joey would have been a natural at spellwork. I suspect you're a natural at seeing them like I do.” It took a lot for Michael to gaze up. “You've been talking to them, seeing them. They've been interacting with you. I used to do that with my parents before they passed to the afterlife.”

“What?”

“Souls need to use an exorbitant amount of power to communicate with the living. Samhaim is one of the only times where they have readily available energy to draw from. But those like you and I, we have the ability to see them. No extra energy required.” Having to bend down, Joseph made sure he was looking straight at Michael, and making sure he was seeing him. “It really is a shame that you couldn't bend a little. You would be such a pleasure to teach.”

He drew him up, showing him the plans for the contraption downstairs. “There is an aspect of soulbonding that has not been done for ages. Tying a soul to a person. It used to be done for kings and mages from prisoners of war, to extend their lives. Then, there were those that banned it, tried to destroy ever piece of literature. But they can't destroy it all.” Michael looked at him in fear. “My Mother had saved some, purely for informational usage. There was an ancestor of mine that did this for the local tribe leader. I have been studying the spellwork. There are areas where I have improved. Keeping the four of you contained and preserved for as long as possible. Bound to me. Keeping you around me. Miss Parker is in this one.” He pointed to a straight coffin that had tubes coming out. “Joey and you are sharing a port.” He saw the one he had created. One side was Joey's size, leaning against a large tower made of pieces that he couldn't identify. The other coffin was bigger.

“And it is now your time to join them.”

Michael was too weak to fight him as he undid the chain and started carrying him. “No,” he pleaded, tears coming out, “No, no, please. Please, don't kill me.”

“Michael, if I had any thought that you would conform to my lifestyle, I would have given it consideration,” he stated, carefully heading down the stairs, “This is a mercy.”

“No, it's not,” he cried, lightly pushing on him, “I, I can-”

“Oh, dear Michael. No, you cannot,” he placed him on the table situated in the middle of the room. “That is what Joey and you inherited from Claire. Perhaps, in time, I will retire from it. Perhaps, one day, the three of you will not be fearful, or disgusted, by what I do.” The straps holding him down were a precaution, to make sure he didn't struggle much. Otherwise, it would hurt more. “That is the good thing about eternity, Michael. With time, you will learn, adapt, change to what the situation calls for.”

“Stop,” he begged. “I don't want to die.”

“No, no, no, shh,” he cooed, readying one of his sharpest ones. In and out, maximize blood lost and have him pass quickly. Joseph kept the boy focused on his face. He carefully carded his hair, keeping his head up towards him while he slid the knife into one of the largest arteries in the chest. The tiny gasp of pain was a dulled thrill, and he saw him slowly bleed. After a few minutes, the combination of factors rendered him unconscious.

Joseph always waited for the first sighting of the soul. His victims shrieked in fear and pain, remnants of their last moments. It's how he truly knew that someone was dead. Claire had surprise and anger, at him, radiating before she disappeared from his sight. Joey had been incredibly sad, talking about Uncle Mike and Miss Parker. Miss Parker had been spitting angry, threatening to do anything she could to tear apart his home and make sure Michael lived.

Michael formed roughly four minutes later. His body had officially ceased. Joseph analyzed him, wondering what emotions would be present. Instead, he received nothing. The young man stared at him with a mostly empty gaze before his energy rushed him, leaving him breathless for a minute. “Well, I have never had that happen to me before,” he commented, slightly shaken at the attack from the soul. He tried to determine that last emotion while he started preparing Michael's body for his coffin.

_Present Day – Ryan_

He started back at the gates, finding another search in the bushes of where he found the wrench. Another heart, gold with clear diamonds decorating it, was placed in Ryan's pocket as he finished and walked back in. Searching the areas was fast, as he only had one more search outside, over at the feet of Carroll and Claire. This heart was emerald with gold around the edges. Back to the inside, he decided on the boys area first.

There was a glimpse of Joey next to the schoolhouse, and among the desks was a sapphire heart with silver surrounding it. Stepping out, he checked their living quarters. Michael's room, previously cleaner, had gotten dirty. The heart hidden behind a stack of books was purest black, with facets to barely reflect light. That one hypnotized him until someone yanked on his shoulder, disrupting him and getting him back on track.

He didn't realize how bad things were getting inside the cave, and likely to the house topside, until he went back to Parker's area via the doors and realized that the way back to the guest house was blocked off. The trolley had even been brought back up, but had been dented by falling rock. “Great, they're here in the house,” he muttered, realizing why it would have come up. It's likely that both of them had been standing over him while they were riding up. Chills went up his back and he didn't like it.

The way back up to the house was still open, but he had the feeling it wasn't going to last very long. He needed to get this done, fast, before things collapsed. Hurrying into Parker's area, he relied on them to show where the last hearts were. Following the woman herself, he found a heart morbidly and funnily enough shaped from bloodstone hidden in the bedroom. The gift shop didn't give him anything, and it collapsed when he got out of the way. “Okay, where would the last one be?” The only places he had left were back in the caves down to the room where he needed the hearts. The food 'store' was dark, and he went directly to the elevator. One jolt later, he was in the section that had led to the area where Debra's body was kept. The boat that he one check wasn't glowing, neither was the telescope. There wasn't a heart hidden in the rocks.

Going back through, he saw Joey running around and went back to the coffin in the back. There, he discovered debris and other items that had migrated to the area. Through the rubbish, he found the last heart, a purely metallic one that seemed to be a mesh of two types of colored gold and a harder silver type.

Back at the elevator, he mentally prepared himself. What he was going to encounter was different than before. A man that killed his family, bound their spirits to keep him alive. Someone helping him out here and others in the area. Humans, living people, he had dealt with before, stopped their plans. How do you do the same to an incorporeal figure? However this was going to happen, it would be now, as he hit the level with a jarring shake. The door that held the other hearts glowed brightly, and he placed the others that he found in their spaces. Things clicked, the cover slid back, now showing the hearts, and the door popped open.

Ryan's first thought was _mad scientist lab_ with all the contraptions pulled straight out of a '50's B movie. Jars with unknown liquids and floating solids, wires and tubes going everywhere. Joel and Mike were making fun of it in his mind, but it didn't help any. In the center was the attraction, a giant glass container filled with cliched green liquid housing a body. There were tubes connecting it to the wall, or likely going to the coffins that had once housed the people he was feeding. Joe Carroll's body, as he recognized from remaining portraits and photographs that were taken. The man must have known he was being watched, as his eyes opened and he saw the man standing in front of him. “Ah,” he greeted, “Ryan Hardy, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Well, pleasure would be stretching it. You're the reason why I cannot feel the souls of my family around me. I love them, Ryan. They are my life. Do you not understand why I need them?”

“I understand that you're a serial killer,” he said, “With a need to control everything around you. It's been conflated with love in your mind. It's not the same, and your actions need to be stopped. You need to let go of them, Joe.”

His face had been pleasantly still, turned into a murderous rage when he talked back. “Robert! Stop him from destroying my life's work!” he yelled, his voice reverberating throughout the basement and beyond. Knowing he didn't have a lot of time, he started searching for a control panel to shut down the system Carroll was using to support his life. Nothing in the room made sense, until he saw a slight glimmer over by a desk. Covered in papers and other junk, was what he was looking for. There were readings on the people he had been using to power himself. All were down, not surprising, but they were still registering. There wasn't a standard control to simply turn it off. Instead, it was another puzzle. “One last time.”

It was a series of words, organized to make up a passage. They were out of order and he couldn't tell what it was meant to read. Words could only be switched with one around it. “What is this supposed to be saying?” he mumbled angrily. Nothing was clicking into place, no clues as to where things went. At least Robert hadn't arrived yet.

The third time going over the words, one jumped out. “Claire,” he said, “I don't know about poems where Claire is the subject. Unless...” Searching it over again, he found key words that reminded him of the works he researched to understand Carroll. Edgar Allan Poe was one of his subjects. There wasn't anyone alive that could give him what ones he quoted from. “If we go by lost family, lost family, lost loves.” Oh, God, how many works did he do on the subject? “Changed the name from one of Poe's. Which one?”

“Robert!” Carroll yelled again.

This time, Ryan felt someone tackle him from the controls. _Great, Robert._ Throwing out a punch, it connected into the other man's shoulder. It does little, but Ryan used it to knock him off. Robert tackled him again, and he had two hands circling his neck. Choking for a few seconds, he broke the hold by forcing his arms up to separate them. When the man toppled momentarily, he headbutted him. “Ow, ow, fuck, why did I do that?” he cursed himself. Robert was clutching his head and he threw another punch to connect with his jaw. It worked, knocking him out temporarily.

Leveraging himself back to his feet, Ryan went over to the panel. He started switching at random, hoping something would pop out. It was switching five words up to the top that a passage from a poem floated up from his memories. “It was many and many a year ago,” he recited, “In a kingdom by the sea. That a maiden there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee.”

“One of my favorites,” Joe contributed. “It spoke to me. Lost of love so soon and young.” He bit his tongue at the retort bubbling up and started switching the words. Luck unfortunately meant that it wasn't the well known ones that the man had picked. He had to keep trying to repeat them over and over to get the wording correctly.

_But our love it was stronger by far than the love_  
Of those who were older than we  
Of many far wiser than we  
And neither the angels in Heaven above  
Nor the demons down under the sea  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
Of the beautiful Claire Evelyn 

At the last placement, things started shaking and collapsing. The contraption couldn't take someone trying to turn it off. Carroll's glass started cracking. Pipes broke and leaked. He even saw sparks coming off a few different electrical places. “No,” he groaned, “No! Robert! You must go forth with the next plan. Take the machine now!” The man, who had been on the floor, pushed back Ryan and headed to something he had passed and ignored. The large metal container had a clock in front, which Ryan saw run down and Robert disappeared from within it.

The other man kept groaning in pain as he hurried out of the basement. The elevator barely made it up and allowed Ryan out before dropping back down from snapped cables. He had to keep rushing past burning buildings and support structures. He was barely out the window when things started collapsing. Down the stairs, he went past the well shooting up flames went outside the gates. Then, he finally turned around. “Holy shit,” he gasped. Between catching his breath and watching the destruction, Ryan saw the house crumple on itself. The wood and spells that had kept it up failed.

He didn't even realize who was coming out until he saw Parker, Mike, and Joey walking out. Their forms were the idealized versions, their mortal wounds gone. “Joey,” a voice called.

The youngest looked over at the woman that manifested next to Ryan. “Mom!” he yelled out, rushing over to hug her. The other two were unsure of what to do, but Mike kept coming forward to join in. Parker was the odd one out, until Claire waved her over. The four then continued walking away, disappearing the farther they got away. Ryan stayed around, wondering how to explain this to Franklin and the local authorities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Poetry of a KIller comes to an end. I'm going to try and get a couple of chapters into the next story before posting it. It's things like these that keep reminding me why I should write it first before publishing. It might take a while though. Work's eating up my schedule, and I have to replay it to get key moments down to change and remold it for the Following.
> 
> In the previous story, Joe said he didn't kill children. But, now he's killed Michael. It's not an evolution or a change. To him, it's a mercy killing. Michael was going to suffer being kept down in the caves. 
> 
> My apologies to the Late Poe and anyone that liked the original Annabel Lee. Yes, that section is from Annabel Lee, with Claire's name replacing hers. No ownership over the original.

**Author's Note:**

> There's one more for the trilogy, and then short stories.
> 
> Unless Big Fish Games puts out more games to go along with this. There are two Madame Fate ones I haven't played that tie in, but that's it.
> 
> Edit: There are now two more Ravenhearst Games. Key to Ravenhearst, and Ravenhearst Unlocked. There are also Madame Fate, and Fate's Carnival, Dire Grove, and Dire Grove, Sacred Grove, all of which are interconnected with the Ravenhearst mythology. (Actually, a tidbit from 13th Skull also ties that in, but only peripherally.)


End file.
